


A Matter of Convenience

by Ryu_Reikai_Akuma



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies, Blow Jobs, Canon Rewrite, Casual Sex, Developing Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Quiet Sex, Reunion Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:38:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma/pseuds/Ryu_Reikai_Akuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be for convenience only, something to do on long nights during the quest. It should be about lust and never love, but Thorin thought differently, unnecessarily complicating matters for Kili.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Convenience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adariall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adariall/gifts).



> To celebrate my 50th fic for this fandom and archae_ology's birthday, uh, last month (at least it's not last year?) because joint celebration means less work, I present to you a very long fic which cost me my health!

Dwarfs fell in love just once in their lives, or not at all. Most of them had relationships only once in their lives for it was difficult to take a dwarf’s attention from his or her craft, but when one managed to do so, it was almost guaranteed to end happily. Young dwarfs experimented sometimes, teasing each other and spending time together to have a glimpse of the feeling so often sung but rarely seen. The curiosity faded away with time, however, and eventually they redirected their attentions to survival and their crafts, with only few assuming the roles they had played as children.

Lust, however, was another matter entirely. Love was a matter of the heart, a delicate subject thousands attempted and failed to describe and dissect and something millions longed for, whether in secret or not. Lust was simpler. It was physical reaction, biological needs, pure instinct. Ask any healer or anyone with some knowledge of dwarf anatomy and he or she could explain at great length how the body reacted the way it did. The mind played its tricks, of course, but the mechanism was clear, simple, understandable. Love was elusive, but lust was ever present as long as one lived. Thus, dwarfs, careful as they were with their hearts, saw little point in repressing lust, denying themselves the little pleasure which was a natural part of life.

Kili rarely denied himself anything (and was rarely denied anything, but that was beside the point). He knew very well of taverns which served the best drinks and food, drinking companions with the best singing voices and most graceful dance moves, and lads and lasses with the warmest and most welcoming beds. He wasn’t the most handsome or desirable dwarf, but Kili was well-versed in using his smiles and eyes to get his way, and rarely was he turned away. He had been warned that he behaved a little too wildly for a prince, but he didn’t heed the reprimand, believing that he deserved some fun considering the weight of the responsibility currently on his shoulder and more to come in his future.

The journey to reclaim Erebor was yet another result of Kili’s charm at work. He hadn’t been a part of the company in the beginning until he begged Thorin to let him come, promising him complete obedience and loyalty as he presented his bow and arrows and life to be used as Thorin saw fit. Thorin’s eventual approval was a sweet victory, one he celebrated with a night in Bombur’s tavern and a pretty lass’s bed right (Fili was less enthused but he was _old_ and had been a part of the company from the start) before he departed to achieve glory. He waved to his mother and friends, promising them the world and great heroic stories.

For all the warning he had received, the quest proved to be rather dull, however. The view was fantastic and the new friends he made were entertaining, but he spent most of his time on the back of his pony, staring into endless blue sky. At night, they whispered of rumored dangers they would find on their way, but the closest to danger they had been so far was being on the receiving end of Thorin’s short fuse, which happened more and more often they closer they got to Erebor. Kili rolled his eyes when his uncle wasn’t looking. He had received Thorin’s reprimands too many times to count and had learnt not to suffer guilt for too long. He hoped he hadn’t left the comfort of home in Ered Luin only for a pony ride and some scolding from Thorin.

Guard duty was the only thing Kili looked forward to and even that slowly lost its attractiveness after night after night of seeing nothing but sleeping dwarfs and ponies. He began to feel restless. He wondered how Fili managed to remain calm with just the entertainment of his pipe while Kili longed to do something, _anything_ that wasn’t sitting still waiting for nothing. Embarrassing as it was, Kili began to miss home. At least there he had things to do to occupy himself. Here, his biggest struggle so far was fighting boredom and he was slowly losing.

Kili shifted around in his bedroll, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard ground. At times like this he longed for his bed at home. His body ached from hours of riding and yet he couldn’t sleep. There’s one thing he usually did when sleeplessness came and he had done a couple of times in the course of the journey so far, but he was lacking in awake partner and the darkness of the woods wasn’t exactly the most stimulating thing. He briefly considered stirring a fight to give him a reason to practice the fighting skill he had boasted about to Thorin, but he knew better than that. Pointless fights might cause rifts and unity was their biggest asset in this journey. So, Kili forced himself to sleep, listening to Bombur’s loud snores to lull himself. It didn’t work, of course, only managing to make him drift off for a few minutes before he woke again, wishing the Lonely Mountain would soon appear to give him something more solid to look forward to and reignite his excitement.

Rustling cloths from his right side roused Kili for the umpteenth time that night. He sighed quietly and resolutely kept his eyes closed, trying to sleep again. The rustling paused then continued and, annoyed, Kili nearly snapped at whoever made that noise to keep it quiet. But, he then remembered who was sleeping on that side and his voice died before it escaped his throat. Kili tried to maintain an even breathing as he listened to Thorin. What was he doing? It’s hard to tell with his eyes closed but the noise seemed too persistent to be something of a product of a restless sleep. Was it nightmare or…?

A quiet moan answered Kili’s internal questions. He raised his eyebrow in surprise but controlled himself, continuing to feign sleep. Thorin was quiet for a moment, the rustling stopped and he seemed to hold his breath. But, when no one reacted, he continued, and now Kili noticed his harsh breathing and the little noises he no doubt was trying not to make.

The right thing to do was to pretend to not notice, of course-they usually looked away when some of the dwarfs sneaked away from the camp at night. But, Kili was tired of not doing anything and the unexpected interest brought by the thought of Thorin touching himself made the decision for him. Kili turned to his side, facing Thorin, and opened his eyes. He nearly grinned at the startled expression on Thorin’s face. He couldn’t remember doing anything to warrant such reaction in a long time. It was always glee, amusement, or annoyance that he received nowadays but, well, that didn’t matter. Before Thorin even had the grace to blush, Kili slipped his hand under Thorin’s blanket. It only took a moment of groping blindly before he found the velvety hardness in Thorin’s grip.

By now, Thorin was positively red. “Kili…” he started but Kili would have none of it.

He shushed Thorin, something which would’ve earned him an angry scolding had he not caress the wet tip of Thorin’s erection with his thumb. “It’s all right,” he sighed. To make his point he slowly pump what Thorin wasn’t currently holding. Kili licked his lips, feeling how well-proportion Thorin was. He wanted to see with his own eyes the thickness in his hand but he didn’t think Thorin wanted to remove his blanket yet. Well, no matter. Kili employed his skills, squeezing, stroking, and teasing while watching closely for Thorin’s reactions. He looked strange this way, face slack with passion and a touch of confusion. A flush colored his normally pale parlor and his lips were open to release withheld moans. He was nothing remotely close to the leader of the company they all respected and even fear. The thought of producing such expression made Kili doubled his efforts until eventually, with an audible gulp, Thorin removed his hand, allowing Kili free reign over his cock.

Kili scooted closer eagerly. Some part of him wanted to feel another body pressed against his but he kept some distance between him and Thorin, wanting to see his face as Kili pleasured him under the blanket. He slipped another hand under the thick cloth to cup his sacs. Gently, he massaged the round fullness as he continued to pump the thick column of flesh in his other hand. Thorin was leaking pre-spend steadily now and his erection twitched every now and then. His hips began to move minutely, pushing into the tunnel of Kili’s hand, as he moaned quietly into the night air. Kili took steadying breaths as his own cock throbbed in his breeches, aching for a touch. He made himself wait, knowing from the way Thorin stiffened even further in his hand that he would soon come.

With a silent gasp, Thorin bucked his hips into Kili’s grasp and spilled under the blanket. Kili stroked him patiently through it, watching his eyes flutter closed and his mouth move wordlessly, until he was soft. Only then did Kili pulled his hand away. Even in the dim light of the moon Kili could see Thorin’s pearly seed on his fingers. He groaned as his arousal spiked. Quickly, he delved a hand into his breeches and grabbed himself. There’s little room for movement, but Kili was too impatient to undo the article of clothing. He pumped himself quickly as he stuck his dirty fingers into his mouth one by one, savoring Thorin’s taste. Thorin’s wide eyes and choked gasp was his undoing and he came hard in his breeches with a quiet moan.

He felt sticky but he couldn’t be bothered to get a change of his clothes. In front of him, Thorin was still staring in a mixture of amazement and horror, but Kili was too sated to reassure him. He stretched languidly and offered him a lazy smile. “Don’t think too much of it. Just sleep.” Within seconds, Kili obeyed his own words, the physical satiation lulling him effectively. It was his best sleep since he departed from the Hobbit hole.

Thorin, however, likely didn’t get much sleep. He spent the next day avoiding Kili’s eyes. His temper was worse than usual, making others wonder what had gotten into their leader. Only Gandalf seemed to at least have an inkling of what had happened, if the looks he gave Kili were any indication. Kili thought they had been careful but, well, Gandalf was a wizard; he likely had some kind of magic to know everything. As Gandalf made no move to inform the others of the cause of Thorin’s bad mood, Kili chose to wait and see if things would improve with time, if Thorin’s shame or whatever he felt would disappear. Thorin was difficult but not unreasonable. Surely he had noticed how their companions would occasionally seek privacy in pairs and would see that their little moment the previous night was born out of necessity and shouldn’t be allowed to disturb delicate sensibilities.

However, as night approached, no change came, except for the worse. When he once again snapped at the poor hobbit for being understandably unaccustomed to travelling, Kili decided that the ridiculous situation had gone too far. He cornered Thorin when others were busy trying not to draw Thorin’s further ire. For one second Thorin looked ashamed, glancing at the company to see whether they were looking (they weren’t and Kili saw Gandalf pointedly look away and take Bilbo with him when Kili went to see Thorin, further confirming that wizards were _magic_ ), but he soon scowled to intimidate Kili. Kili frowned unhappily.

“I’ve told you not to think of it,” he said accusingly.

“How could I not think of it?” Thorin growled. “I’m…”

“In need of relief from stress,” Kili interrupted. “We all do from time to time.”

Thorin looked away, shame once again coloring his face. “I don’t need help with that.”

If anyone in their company was in need of relaxation, it would be Thorin, But, Kili kept that thought to himself. “I’d like to help, nonetheless.” Without waiting for Thorin’s reply, he dropped to his knees in front of him. He held Thorin’s thighs as he nuzzled his crotch, breathing in Thorin’s musky scent. The thought of having in his mouth what he had had in his hands the previous night made his cock twitch in interest. Above him Thorin gasped but didn’t move away. Kili looked up from beneath his lashes, his lips a breath away from Thorin’s covered cock, impatient to taste it but having done this enough to know that a little teasing would make things much better in the end. “Let me help. I like helping.”

A moan was his answer. Seconds later Kili licked Thorin’s cock to full hardness. Minutes later he let Thorin fuck his mouth with barely restrained thrusts of his hips while he touched himself. A while later Kili came to the ground with Thorin’s thick bitter taste on his tongue, fingers in his hair, and sated groan in his ears. This time, when Kili pulled away, Thorin looked mostly calm, peaceful even. Kili grinned proudly.

“Go back to the company,” Thorin said, gently pushing him to their camp for the night, no trace of anger on his face. Kili didn’t argue and secretly gloated when Gloin remarked that Thorin seemed less angry now, even if some looked at him accusingly as if he was the cause of Thorin’s foul mood. Well, he was, but it’s not completely his fault that Thorin apparently didn’t grasp the concept of tending to a friend’s need.

It became a routine of sort. Thorin needed only to send Kili a look and later that night, Kili would have his hands under Thorin’s blanket or kneel in front of him if location permitted. With something other than pony riding and guard duty to do, Kili became less restless. It gave him something to look forward to, even if it’s just looking for a window of opportunity or a well-hidden place to pleasure Thorin. It became a challenge, a game of sort, something to break the tediousness. It made him obedient and watchful, something which received praised from some of the company. Not to mention, the arrangement also brought a positive change to Thorin’s attitudes. He smiled more and was even kinder (or at least more civil) toward their hobbit. During rests, he allowed himself to relax, listening to Bofur’s songs and Balin’s tales instead of going off to brood somewhere. It made the travel a little nicer and Kili was quite proud of himself for helping the company. It wasn’t fighting as he had imagined things to be, but he was glad to give some contribution to the company.

Thorin never touched him save for gripping his hair to guide him when Kili took him in his mouth. As much as Kili wanted to find release with someone else’s touch, he refrained from asking for it from Thorin. He knew conscience still lingered in his mind, something which insisted that what they’re doing wasn’t right. Perhaps they needed to have proper conversation regarding this, but Thorin was mostly good at reprimanding and Kili was better at earning reprimands. That conversation wouldn’t end well, so Kili kept quiet and continued to come when Thorin called, hoping that his honest enthusiasm and satisfaction would eventually put Thorin’s mind at ease.

Thorin wasn’t entirely selfless, however. Kili had always been closer to Thorin than Fili was. Great concerns for the future colored Fili’s relationship with Thorin, but not so for Kili who was given room to make mistakes. Thorin was more lax toward him, showing him more kindness and attention. Still, there was distance maintained by Thorin’s busy schedule and heavy burden and Kili’s admittedly occasionally erratic behaviors. Thorin might be one of the first Kili would go to when he was in need for help, but he was also one of the last ones on the list when it came to sharing stories. Given the choice, Kili would rather spend time with Dwalin than with Thorin. At least Dwalin would ensure he had a great time at the end of the night, if a little bruised from brawls or unintentionally hard pats on the back.

This had now changed. Now in the evening, when the company was enjoying their simple meals and stretching their sore muscles, Thorin sat by Kili’s side, sharing hushed comments on the journey so far. Truth be told, it’s rather dull. There were only so many ways to describe the landscape and the pain of riding for hours before he’s repeating the same story for the hundredth time. However, Kili nodded and listened intently, gleeful for any chance to receive Thorin’s attention. He shared his own less serious observation of the journey and their company and although Thorin only seemed mildly amused, at least he wasn’t angry. On the bad days when he wasn’t very receptive of funny stories, Kili’s hands or mouth took care of his foul mood, activities frankly more entertaining than listening to Thorin’s boring stories and annoyed rebukes. It was overall a pleasant development of their relationship, if a little one-sided.

It was never spoken that their arrangement was to be kept quiet, but that’s how it was. Kili believed that the others would fully understand-it’s a long journey and they took pleasure where they could and if pleasure was to be found in the hands and mouth of a male companion, then so be it. However, he knew Thorin well. Kili might have no qualm in making most of his life public, but Thorin valued his privacy and what they had was nothing short of private, especially considering they’re related. So Kili tried to be careful and considerate, taking some time before following Thorin to some secluded spot and biting his lips when he came on his hands with Thorin’s taste on his tongue or seed on his fingers. He usually preferred being more spontaneous, but the situation and his partner now was different. He should be cautious and silent.

It was an uneventful night when they were discovered for the first time. Kili was standing up from his kneeling position in front of Thorin when he spotted his brother some distance away, watching them. Thorin followed his gaze and immediately paled, stepping back and away from Kili. Fili quietly left quietly, but Thorin wasn’t assured. He quickly tidied his clothes, his fingers slightly trembling in shock, shame, and anger. When Kili tried to help, he pushed Kili away as if he were an unruly dog, as if his Kili wasn’t still tasting him in his mouth, growling, “Get away from me.”

Kili narrowed his eyes. If not for his manners, he would have a few choices of words to say to Thorin. Even his rudest lovers had the grace to thank him, if in condescending ways. Kili had gone to great lengths easing Thorin’s burden in every way he could and what did he get for his troubles? A shove. Annoyed, Kili left him and rejoined the company, partly hoping others would say that they knew and embarrassed Thorin further. No one acted strangely when he returned, however, showing that Fili kept what he had seen to himself. Kili felt foolish for even thinking that Fili would reveal their private lives and sat beside his brother as if in apology.

“ _Thorin_?” Fili asked quietly in a mildly disbelieving tone, while taking care so that his expression gave nothing away. The question was lost in the midst of crackling fire and raucous laughter.

Kili shrugged. “I’m bored and he needs it.”

Fili scoffed but didn’t argue. He looked around them, waiting for Thorin to appear. When he failed to do so after a few minutes of waiting, Fili turned to Kili, frowning. “Is he upset because I saw you?”

Sourly, Kili grabbed his pipe from inside his bag. “Isn’t he always upset?”

Indeed Thorin was upset. He wouldn’t look at Kili and only talked to him to snap at him for any mistake he had made. Others, especially their poor burglar, received worse treatment. Kili even suspected Ori was on the verge of crying if the glares Dori and Nori sent Thorin’s way were any indication. It was all completely without reason. Surely Thorin wasn’t so blind that he didn’t realize others behaved exactly the same as before, meaning that even though Fili had seen him and Kili in a compromising position, he hadn’t told others. And if he was still embarrassed of being seen at all, the lack of mockery from Fili should put him at ease. These things didn’t seem to register into Thorin, however, and Kili began to wonder if he was obtuse as well as stubborn.

Kili didn’t attempt to reassure Thorin this time and made a point to set his bedroll furthest away from Thorin. He abandoned the closeness they had built. It wasn’t as if he was lacking in companion. In fact, the rest of the company was better companions than the sourly leader who seemed incapable of speaking of matters not related to Erebor and politics. Kili stayed close to his friends, refusing to even look at Thorin who sat alone in the corner, glaring at everyone. Many nights spent pleasuring Thorin meant Kili knew the signs of his mounting desire but Kili ignored it. If Thorin needed release, he had his hands. Surely they were good for more than wielding weapons and shoving well-intentioned dwarfs away.

It didn’t improve things. Thorin’s mood worsened every day to the point of unbearable. Kili found himself receiving many angry looks, tame compared to the abuse the others received, but still irritated him enough to make him keep his distance and silence. Even Gandalf finally had enough of Thorin and left to calm himself. Kili wished he could go with him but that would probably make Thorin brand him as a traitor and no matter how annoyed he was of Thorin, his loyalty remained unchanged. Yes, Thorin was a difficult dwarf to get along with, but he was still the King under the Mountain and he was still leading the quest to reclaim their homeland. No matter how annoyed Kili was of him, he didn’t want to leave the company. He did finally manage to escape Thorin’s bad mood by volunteering to watch the ponies with Fili. Of course that’s when the trolls ambushed them.

It was terrifying and mortifying. Being cooked wasn’t how Kili imagined he would die. He should die in a battle, with weapons clutched tightly in his hands, not tied up and helpless in a sack. But the ropes around his wrists and ankles were tight and the sack suffocating. Thorin lunged forward whenever the trolls came too near, baring his teeth to scare them fruitlessly, but Kili could only squirm and hope for the best. When Gandalf came to rescue them after Bilbo smartly delayed the trolls, it was simultaneously relieving and upsetting. Kili glared at the stone trolls. His first chance to practice what he had been taught and he had ruined it with foolishness. Who knew when he would have another chance to use his fighting skills? They had almost reached the halfway point of the journey and there had been nothing but blue sky, grey mountains, and green trees. Kili kicked a stone troll and annoyed himself more when he hurt his foot.

Distracted by his pain and irritation, Kili gasped in surprise when he pulled by his arm. He nearly fought until he saw that it was Thorin. He wanted to ask what Thorin wanted but he didn’t seem inclined to speak, his expression stormy as he pulled Kili away from the company. Kili winced, remembering how he had fallen into the troll’s trap easily, and he looked around for help. Fili quirked an eyebrow at them but quickly led Ori and Bilbo to the opposite direction from where Thorin and Kili were heading. Meanwhile, the others were too engrossed telling each other what they would’ve done to the trolls had they been more prepared. It seemed that no one would be available or was inclined to help him escape Thorin’s lengthy lecture. Shoulders slumped in resignation, Kili followed Thorin’s lead. They had barely left the company’s line of sight when he was pushed harshly to a tree.

Kili’s protests disappeared when Thorin crushed his lips with his. Their teeth clacked against each other and there was little finesse in the way Thorin rather unceremoniously shoved his tongue into Kili’s slack mouth, caressing gum and tongue furiously. There was no chance to kiss back. He could only give whatever it was Thorin demanded and took. Kili gasped when Thorin pulled away to hastily undo Kili’s breeches, releasing his half-hard cock. Though surprised, Kili didn’t hesitate to do the same to Thorin. They pushed their breeches down just low enough to free their cocks before Thorin pressed himself against Kili again and wrapped his large hand around their erections. Shocked by the unexpected touch, Kili gripped Thorin’s hips, fingers digging into his firm buttocks, as the friction created by Thorin’s hand and their cocks rubbing against each other quickly brought him to full hardness. His fear and frustration were forgotten as desire coursed through his body, heating his blood. Thorin’s open mouth was on his neck, his hot breaths caressing the sensitive skin, the only gentle thing in this stolen moment. He growled when Kili widened his legs, making room for him, and braced himself against the tree behind Kili to press his body even closer to Kili’s.

Kili panted and moaned, eyes half closed as he pushed into Thorin’s sure grip. Their velvety lengths slid against each other and their full sacks collided with every eager thrust. Early seed spilled from their tips and Thorin spread it on their cocks. Actual lubrication would make it better but Kili didn’t want to part from Thorin, not even to spit to his hand. He kneaded Thorin’s bottom and threw his head back, presenting Thorin with the column of his neck. Thorin wasted little time to press open-mouthed kisses there, leaving damp patches behind to cool in the morning air.

Thorin came first, dirtying their clothes with his pearly seed. He didn’t stop stroking, however, and the thought and sight of his cock covered in Thorin’s release pushed Kili over the edge seconds later. He came with a groan, adding to the mess but not caring at all. His legs threatened to fail but he clung to Thorin as his calloused hand milked them. Thorin stroked them through it all until his body trembled out of oversensitivity and Kili took pity on him and pushed him away gently. Smiling blissfully, he took Thorin’s hand and licked it clean. The thought that he was tasting his and Thorin’s combined seed made him moan. His cock made a weak effort to awaken but ultimately failed. Oh, well. He didn’t think Thorin was ready for a second round, anyway.

Thorin slid his clean hand behind Kili’s head to pull him close. Their foreheads met with a light thud and he sighed. “I thought you’d…” He didn’t continue.

Kili gripped Thorin’s sticky hand tightly, recalling the horror they had just left behind. They’re safe now, but not an hour ago he had thought they had met the premature end of their journey. If not for Bilbo’s quick thinking and Gandalf’s excellent timing they would have… Kili closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on Thorin’s presence, strong and protective as a mountain. Nothing terrible would happen as long as Thorin was there.

After a moment, Thorin pulled away, although he didn’t release Kili and Kili didn’t release his hand. “I’d send you home if we weren’t this far already,” he said, smiling ruefully.

“Don’t you dare,” Kili protested, grinning. “I’ll be beside you when we return to Erebor.”

Thorin frowned and for the first time Kili saw doubt in him. Thorin might reserve some concerns regarding the quest, but he was always confident of their chance of completing it. This doubt was unprecedented. It seemed that Kili hadn’t been the one shaken by the trolls. “Who knows what lies ahead.”

“Danger, no doubt,” Kili shrugged, thinking of the adventures he had heard and the dragon currently occupying the Lonely Mountain. “But we have Gandalf. And Bilbo.” He chuckled when Thorin scoffed. “He saved us! And the rest of us aren’t so bad! We were caught off guard but that won’t happen again! Next time we’ll….”

“Enough of that,” Thorin interrupted. He was smiling, however, and Kili couldn’t find it in himself to be remotely annoyed. “We’ll think of next time when it happens. Now, let’s go back before they start to worry.”

They cleaned themselves with pieces of cloth they promptly discarded on the forest floor. They walked side by side, shoulders and arms occasionally bumping against each other. When they saw the company again, Kili made a little distance between them. Thorin looked at him strangely but said nothing. No one seemed to think anything was amiss when they regrouped, except for Fili who looked at them curiously. Kili expected Thorin to again fly into a rage fueled by shame but he met Fili’s eyes evenly and nodded. Kili looked away, hiding his happy grin.

It’s really interesting, the effect of a near-death experience on dwarfs. They were more somber, finally realizing that this wasn’t a trek in unfamiliar territory. Thorin was more careful now, more aware of his and his company’s mortality, more caring to his companions, though in his own distant way. His eyes constantly sought any possible danger and he was more often found speaking with Dwalin, no doubt assessing the situation and planning various defense actions. To Kili’s delight, he and Fili were occasionally involved in those discussions. Never were Kili more grateful for his light feet and weight than that time. What had shamed him back home was now an asset to the company. He made sure not to miss anything when he was scouting now, not wanting to lose the trust Thorin had finally given him. He still wasn’t treated as an equal to Dwalin or even Fili, but there was time to prove his worth. Kili vowed that at the end of the quest he would stand by Thorin as one of his best warriors.

The serious atmosphere engulfing the company wasn’t unwarranted, of course, but it didn’t mean they should sink into negativity. Kili, Fili, and Bofur tried to spread some hope and smiles. Regardless of what Thorin seemed to think, orders weren’t the only thing keeping them moving toward their goal. Hope was also an essential fuel. They had to believe in something to strive and fight for Erebor. Kili himself made a point to sit and stay near Thorin when he could to try to lighten his mood. When Thorin slid closer to him when the firelight grew dim at night Kili knew for sure that he had truly helped. Thorin might not openly show his emotions, but it didn’t mean he lacked them. It only meant it took the right nudge to make him show them and Kili knew he had found the right way when Thorin whispered to him private episodes in his childhood and his tentative dreams for the future. Thorin revealed his worry for the still great distance between them and Erebor and what might lie there and listened as Kili spoke of things he had learnt about their company and the stories he had heard of the way to Erebor. Kili was even more certain when he felt Thorin leaned on him, trusting him to carry some of his weight and burdens even for a while.

Fili now knew to keep some distance from Kili and Thorin at night. Kili wasn’t entirely sure of what he really thought of their rather unusual relationship, but since Fili said nothing of it and Thorin made no fuss anymore, he didn’t think it mattered. It’s enough that he now didn’t have to try so hard to muffle his noises and hide his restless movements. Although, now it wasn’t so difficult to be quiet. Now instead of biting his lip and arm, Kili could press his mouth to Thorin’s shoulder and neck to hide his moans. Their bodies now pressed closely together as they touched each other or took hold of both of them in saliva-coated hands. Now their legs tangled under the blankets, preventing too much movement but increasing pleasure with intimacy. Hidden under blankets and darkness, no one ever noticed their trysts.

Kili was especially fond of gripping Thorin’s firm buttocks, feeling the muscles tense under his hands as Thorin gyrated his hips for more friction. After a while, Thorin, too, dared to slip his hands down the back of Kili’s breeches. Once in a while, his thick fingers strayed close to Kili’s entrance, teasing him hesitantly, unknowingly awakening the aching emptiness inside Kili. Despite wanting to feel Thorin in him, Kili never pressured him, thinking that it’s more important for him to take their encounters at his own speed. He only made sure to show that he didn’t mind taking this further at all by pushing back to the curious digits. He knew from the way Thorin’s eyes darkened when he did that, that Thorin wanted to take him as much as Kili wanted to be taken. But he never did more than kissing every inch of Kili he could reach and then claiming his mouth hungrily as together they ran toward their peaks. It’s how they ended almost every night, dirtying their hands and coats with no regret in their glad hearts.

Thorin was in slightly better mood nowadays, but when Gandalf announced that they would visit Rivendell, Thorin wasn’t exactly pleased. He was even less so when the road proved to be treacherous. Some nights, Thorin argued with Gandalf on the necessity of visiting the elves, but Gandalf made an excellent point when he said that they needed provisions and proper rest. Kili agreed with Gandalf but kept that opinion quiet, knowing Thorin’s opinion of elves. Admitting that he was eager for the help of elves would no doubt lead to a catastrophic argument. So, he waited patiently and restrained Thorin when the elves mocked then as they neared their destination.

Rivendell was beautiful. Not in the way Ered Luin was beautiful, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Ered Luin centered on a tall proud mountain, with many of its people living in it, while a forest nearby to provide food. Rivendell seemed to merge with the forest. Vines and roots crawled on structures and statues, seemingly intent to reclaim them back to the nature, but were maintained to live side by side instead. Instead of closed space Kili was familiar with, in Rivendell every room had large doors and windows connecting them to the nature. In fact, the place they had been provided with was a gazebo with half walls which allowed mountain air to cool them while still protecting them. Everywhere Kili went, he could hear the sound of running water from waterfall and streams. When he surveyed Rivendell from a balcony, there were only trees as far as his eyes could see. It’s quite a peculiar sight, how it seemed that there’s no inhabitant as there was no building except for Elrond’s beautiful house. Yet, as they had heard and seen earlier, there were indeed elves in the forest. Kili wondered if they lived there amongst the trees and under the stars instead of protected inside a building. The contrast from what he had left behind reminded him of home and his mother and he smiled fondly at the thought of them.

“Kili,” Thorin greeted as he approached Kili. “Why are you here?”

Kili smiled widely as Thorin stood beside him, frowning at the view before turning to Kili. “Exploring. This place is beautiful. Not quite like Ered Luin, of course,” he added quickly. “And the food was horrible. Why don’t they eat meat?”

Thorin scoffed but didn’t answer. “It’s pretty, but not as beautiful as Ered Luin,” he said instead, proud of his accomplishment in building Ered Luin to its current glory.

In a good mood after a full (though unsatisfying) meal, Kili prompted, “And definitely not as beautiful as Erebor, right?”

A nostalgic smile grew on Thorin’s face. “Nothing could compare to Erebor. It stands taller than this place and even Ered Luin. From the highest balcony you can see the city of Dale below, the Misty Mountains in the distance, long river splitting the rich earth, and forest in the distance. At this time of the year, Dale shone with endless parties and the mountain itself glowed with fire and gold as dwarfs sang songs of celebration and glory.” He smirked at Kili. “And there’s meat for everyone.”

Kili laughed. “Tell me more about the meat!”

A spark of mischief lighted Thorin’s eyes. “It’s the best in all of Middle Earth. Freshly caught by our best hunters and cooked with rich spices by our best cooks. It seemed to melt on your tongue, leaving delicious taste behind, and there’s no shortage of it.”

“Oh, now I’m hungry!” Kili complained. “Do you think they’ll be upset if I go hunting tomorrow morning?”

Thorin’s smirk suggested that the more it upset the elves, the better. “Don’t let them stop you.” He smiled when Kili laughed loudly. “When we’re in Erebor, I’ll show you the best hunting spots.”

“I don’t think you’ll have time for that,” Kili chuckled, imagining Thorin on a throne with a crown upon his head, a true king at last. His heart swelled with pride and affection at the thought. He would make it come true someday. “I don’t think your advisors will let you. I know Mister Balin definitely won’t let you.”

But, Thorin shook his head. “They can’t tell me what to do. I’ll go whenever I want to. We’ll go hunting when it pleases us, for as long as we want. We’ll go where few could reach us, where we could escape from everyone. I’ll build a cabin for us so we can…”

“No,” Kili said sharply. In front of him, Thorin froze. “We don’t do that. That’s not what we have. That’s not what we are.” Didn’t Thorin understand? What he proposed was romance. Romance is for lovers and they’re not lovers. They’re only brought together by physical needs and convenience during this journey. It was only temporary fun and nothing more.

Thorin seemed to turn into stone as he tried to grasp what Kili had just said. Pity crossed Kili’s mind for a moment-perhaps Thorin had never had relation based solely on lust before-but he refused to falter. Thorin had to understand. Passion occasionally produced fantasies, but it was important to remember reality. Kili didn’t deny his affection for Thorin, but did he want to be his lover? No. He had no interest in the cage he would be confined to in that role and the expectations that would be put upon him and disappointments lovers always without fail received. When the company arrived at Erebor, when they reclaimed it, this arrangement would be over. He was merely enjoying what he currently had and what might go away once they assumed their roles as king and prince: A little time with Thorin, pleasant companionship, warm welcoming body to keep him warm at night, and ability to do whatever he pleased. He loved his freedom and had every intention to keep it for as long as he could. Preferably forever.

Finally, Thorin’s expressions shifted into that of a carefully blank mask. “Of course,” he said, too quietly to be considered truly unaffected.

Kili should’ve left him alone, shouldn’t have made things worse with hope and confusion, but he simply couldn’t leave Thorin alone with his (quite palpable) disappointment. So he kissed Thorin, slowly at first, coaxing him to embrace Kili, then with more fervor as Thorin’s lust was ignited. Kili was rougher this time, pushing Thorin against a white pillar as he stroked their cocks together with hard pulls. He didn’t bother silencing his moans and groans, partly to amuse Thorin by letting the elves know what they’re doing and partly to remind Thorin of the nature of their arrangement. Thorin was quieter, leaning his head back against the pillar behind him, though his hands on Kili’s buttocks and back were strong and almost bruising. When they came, they came so hard that they shook. Kili rested his forehead on Thorin’s shoulder to catch his breath and when he lifted his head to look at Thorin, he saw that he was watching him under heavy lidded eyes, mouth still slightly open as he panted, internal turmoil almost completely buried under satisfaction. For a moment, Kili feared he would see love (whatever it was like), but it was the same kind of affection Thorin had always showed him, especially as of late. Kili grinned as he pulled away and then returned to the company alone. This was what they had. It’s not love. It’s not romance. It’s just lust.

The concept seemed difficult to grasp for Thorin who became quieter around Kili, watching him from the corner of his eyes. It’s rather sad to see him alone and away from the company when the others were busy recuperating from long journey and wandering around the elf territory. However, Kili thought it’s for the best that, in light of Thorin’s misunderstanding, Kili left him be. He brought various games for the party, reported his discoveries, and told tales of his adventures in the forest near Ered Luin and the friends and ‘acquaintances’ he had left behind and planned to see again. He made sure that Thorin saw and heard all of these so he would understand. It took a few days but finally, one night, Thorin slid his pillow closer to Kili’s and slipped his hand under Kili’s blanket. It was their usual game of keeping silent, but this time after they finished, Thorin licked his own hand, smiled to Kili, and turned his back to him as he slept, thus missing Kili’s amused smile.

It’s rather surprising for Kili to see Thorin flounder with their casual relationship. Though he had never seen it with his own eyes, he thought there were dwarfs who graced Thorin’s bed. If not now (because, understandably, a king had a reputation to uphold) then surely there had been some in the past. However, now Kili thought that there might’ve been none or if there had been one, then it had been a long time ago. He watched Thorin unnecessarily assess everything he did around Kili, as if worried he had crossed some line. He didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t what he did, but what he felt. They were supposed to be uncommitted, unattached. They were supposed to separate their feelings from their bodies. But, admittedly, this was a difficult topic to discuss and Kili thought it best to let Thorin experiment. The carefully blank mask was overdone, but a step in the right direction. Kili made no comment about it, waiting for the tension to dissipate and taking pleasure in turning Thorin’s stoicism into ecstasy.

The stay in Rivendell was pleasant and the elves, despite Thorin’s distrust, were very friendly and helpful. Within the fortnight of their stay, they returned to the state they were in when they first embarked on the journey. It also revived their courage which had deflated after their encounter with the trolls. For a moment, Kili entertained the thought of living here among the elves instead of continuing the quest, but he dismissed it immediately. Beautiful and interesting as Rivendell was, it wasn’t a place for dwarves, even those as familiar with forest as Kili was. He felt it in his deepest heart, a pull toward earth and rock, rather than trees and flowers. His only role in such a forest was as a hunter, a role which didn’t exist in elf society (except when it came to hunting goblins and orcs, he heard, though he had never seen it himself). When Thorin announced that they would be leaving, Kili dutifully packed his belongings. When they left Rivendell, Kili spared only one look back before he fixed his eyes forward to Thorin’s broad back and followed his leader.

After the comfortable stay in Rivendell, the road seemed more treacherous than ever. This time, there was no tree to protect them and no grass and soft earth to cushion them. There’s only a tall wall of rock on one side and steep cliff on the other. The air at this altitude was cold, colder than Ered Luin ever was in this season. It was difficult to believe that it was still mid-summer. Even the sturdiest miner and warriors slowly grew sick of the condition, although they’re wise enough to keep their complaints to themselves. At night, huddled close to each other with their backs against the wall of rock, they whispered of the map, telling each other how they would make it to Erebor just in time over and over again until they believed it. Only Bilbo seemed doubtful, but Kili ignored him. He pulled his blanket closer to him and used Thorin and Fili’s body heat radiating from either side of him to keep him warm and put him to sleep.

Then the thunder-battle happened. No matter how Kili had assured himself that he would be safe and that his skills were sufficient for survival, he still shook at the sight of the stone giants. Only pride stopped him from holding Fili’s hand but he regretted that when they were separated. He could only watch helplessly as Fili was taken away. He trembled, feeling miniscule before these stone giants. He had thought that the trolls were frighteningly large, but they were nothing compared to these giants. He ran and shouted, trying to reach Fili before he was moved away again but he wasn’t fast enough. His sword was useless. His arrows were useless. He could only hope that luck was on his side tonight.

“Kili!”

Thorin’s shout grabbed his attention. He looked around him wildly in panic for any approaching danger. The shoves from the dwarves behind only increased his confusion. He wanted to ask why Thorin had called him when he saw him, but his focus was diverted to Fili who had returned to safe ground. Kili rushed toward him to help him up and take him to safety. They were both shaking, both panting heavily, both scared, but there was no time to linger. Thorin ordered them to find shelter and so they went hand in hand, unwilling to be apart after the close encounter with eternal separation. Thankfully, they didn’t have to go far to find a cave and after a quick check, they returned to the company. It wasn’t a proper check but they needed to immediately hide from the storm and the giants. The others agreed and they trudged to the cave.

Sheltered from the thunder-battle, the dwarfs set their camp for the night. It wasn’t Rivendell but everyone looked relieved to be out of danger and rain. Once their fear subsided, Kili and Fili released their tight hand hold, though they still didn’t stand too far apart. Kili was just putting on dry clothes when he was suddenly pulled away. He briefly grasped at Fili’s arm before he realized that it was Thorin who was dragging him and he followed with only a quick look at the rest of the company. The cave was fortunately dark and had nooks for some privacy, but they couldn’t be fully hidden. His thoughts were cut short, however, as Thorin pushed him toward a dark corner at the deepest part of the cave.

When Thorin first touched him, Kili’s first instinct was to push his hands away. This wasn’t the time or place for this. Their friends, Fili included, were almost killed. The storm still raged outside and they were shivering to their bones. Kili didn’t want pleasure now, just safety. However, he then realized that Thorin’s touches weren’t sexual in nature. Thorin hands were fleeting but firm, searching for injury and pain. His labored breathing was warm on Kili’s chilly skin and he was trembling as much as Kili was. When Kili grabbed his hand to stop him, he looked up with eyes clouded by fear.

“Are you injured? I lost sight of you and I thought…” Thorin stopped and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The hands in Kili’s grip clenched tightly before relaxing. He swallowed thickly and opened his eyes. “I know we’re not… But I’m worried.”

Kili squeezed Thorin’s hands gently to stop him. It was dark, Thorin probably couldn’t see him, but still he smiled. “It’s all right. I’m all right.” He felt rather than saw Thorin’s relief in the way his breath washed over him. Kili smiled wider, feeling warmer now. “And you? Are you all right?”

Thorin nodded but still Kili patted him to look for injury. When he discovered none, he sighed in relief. He smiled when Thorin briefly rested their foreheads together, the small gesture comforting in its familiarity. In the cold and unfamiliar place, with the memory of danger still so fresh in his mind, Kili almost didn’t want to let this moment go. He had long since associated Thorin with safety and never more than this moment did he crave it. But, he was an adult and a warrior and he should take comfort in himself and his weapons.

Kili pulled away reluctantly. “We should go back to the company.”

Thorin was hesitant but nodded. His gaze lingered on Kili as he made his way back to their friends, his steps heavy and echoing in the cave. Kili followed right behind him. He noted that their arrival attracted some attention. A few eyebrows were raised and Fili and Gandalf gave them a knowing look. The attention didn’t last long as they immediately turned their attention back to more urgent matters of getting warm and dry, but still Kili saw Thorin’s shoulders tense. He glanced back to Kili, as if uncertain whether this had broken the rules of their arrangement. Kili thought it mattered not, but presently wasn’t the time or place for such conversation. He slipped away to rejoin their friends and Thorin went to sit in a corner, watching. They ate their meager meal in silence then slept curled for warmth, the thunder battle still raging outside. Kili sent a smile to Thorin, laying a couple of paces away from him, and closed his eyes, thinking of lovely nights in Rivendell sharing blankets with Thorin, and promptly fell asleep.

Then, the goblins came.

It was what Kili had been waiting for. The opportunity he had missed with the trolls had come again. After a brief moment of confusion (he had been very rudely awakened from a rather nice sleep, after all) he managed to fight back. It was short-lived sadly and, outnumbered, he had his hands tied as the company was presented to the Great Goblin. Refusing to show fear, Kili glowered and hissed at any goblin that came near despite being practically unable to defend himself, let alone fight. Behind him, Thorin shouted and growled at the goblins as he shoved them away but he was equally helpless. The hundreds of deformed residents of the dark goblin town screamed and jeered at them, hungry for blood and screams. It was obvious that the only way out of this situation wasn’t to fight, but to run. So, when Gandalf came to their rescue, he followed, forsaking pride for survival.

In the darkness, the situation could only be called chaotic. Goblins ran after them and jumped at them when they least expected it. The goblins’ weapons, though crude, were effective, cutting through clothes and skin. Kili felt the stings of injuries but ignored them, forcing himself to run after Gandalf and Thorin while swinging his sword to cut through any goblin which came near. It was now that he truly felt like a warrior. He wasn’t just a dwarf with a fighting skill or a guard of merchants. He was now a warrior fighting enemies and there was exhilaration in making his first killings as one (though not his very first kill. That honor went to a man who had foolishly tried to steal from a merchant he was guarding). There was little time to celebrate, however, and as soon as they regrouped-the hobbit reappearing from out of nowhere-they searched safer place to camp. They never found it.

Wargs found them instead, followed by the goblins, and the dwarves were forced to climb trees higher and higher to get away from them. Kili’s heart pounded painfully in his chest as the goblins sang and danced below them while setting the trees on fire. Was this how he’s going to die? Not even halfway to Erebor? Without even seeing the lonely peak? He pulled the lapel of his coat to cover his nose and mouth and coughed as smoke reached him, constricting his lungs and burning his eyes. On a branch near him, Fili did the same and through the thick smoke Kili recognized fear in his brother’s eyes. He wanted to reach out to hold his hand but he feared he would fall. He looked around him at the rest of the company, how they clung tightly to thick branches as they coughed violently. He saw Thorin on one of the trees and their eyes met. There was anger in Thorin’s eyes and intensity Kili dared not name and something in him ached.

A howl from below and a cry from above surprised him. When Kili first saw the eagles, his fear multiplied, thinking that they had more enemies. But when he realized that the eagles were on their side, he, as with the rest of the company, climbed to the top of the trees for the eagles to pick them up and take them to safety. Flight, along with the distancing sight of the goblins, wargs, and burning trees, washed away his fear. He took a deep breath of clear night air, cleansing his lungs off the smoke he had inhaled earlier. Fili, who was picked up by the same eagle, did the same. The brothers shared a grin and tried not to look down. Instead, Kili looked around him, searching for Thorin, but it seemed that he had been found first. Carried by another eagle some distance away, Thorin’s eyes bore into him, full of worry and agitation. Kili smiled to reassure him but his eagle carried him away from Thorin’s view. Kili sighed quietly, making a mental note to come to Thorin later.

However, later didn’t come soon enough. Their brief rest was hectic as Oin rushed to examine their injuries. Despite complaints and insistence they were completely well apart from some scrapes and bruises, Oin insisted on treating every wound, not wanting to risk infection. Grudgingly, Kili agreed, recalling the goblins’ rusty and dirty weapons. He let Oin care for his wounds then helped him examine his friends. The seasoned warriors were especially stubborn, claiming that they had survived worse and refusing examination. It took Oin’s stern lecture to make them reluctantly let Kili and Fili check their wounds. Afterward, Kili helped to make dinner, having only then realized that he was famished. It had been a long night with barely any time to eat, so he rushed, preparing the animals the eagles had kindly brought them. Bombur promised a proper delicious meal, but honestly Kili would eat nearly anything right then.

Busy as he was, he almost didn’t realize that Thorin was watching him. Only when he finally had time to sit down to rest did he notice. He saw Thorin stood up, made to approach him, then stopped when he realized that Dwalin was looking at him. In other situation, Kili would come to him to reassure him or smile in amusement, but he was exhausted and hungry and said nothing. Later that night they slept apart. Only his tiredness made him sleep immediately without the now familiar warmth by his side.

The next day, the eagles were kind enough to take them to a stone hill Gandalf called the Carrock. Afterward, they had to walk to a house of a skin-changer which they reached after an entire day of walking, leaving no time to think of anything but reaching a refuge. When Gandalf went with Bilbo to talk with their would-be host that Kili had time to think back on what had happened, what grave danger he had escaped. To have all of his companions here was quite a miracle. They were battered and exhausted but they were alive. Kili’s eyes sought Thorin and he wasn’t entirely surprised when he found him looking. His gaze was loaded though his expression was stoic. Kili found himself drawn toward him, wanting to ascertain his well being himself rather than hearing from Oin that none of them was fatally injured, but it wasn’t the time for that.

Satisfying dinner in a safe house (at last!) made Kili forget his troubles. He was half asleep as he sang along with his friends. Only determination to not be the first to go to bed kept him awake. Still, he wasn’t as alert as he usually was and thus was surprised when Thorin sat down beside him as he hadn’t noticed him move at all. Thorin didn’t stop singing and neither did the other dwarves. Kili, on the other hand, temporarily forgot the words to the songs. Thorin looked at their curious company, as if challenging them to make a comment. It was an unexpectedly bold move after so long of worrying of being discovered and then of crossing the line. Kili wondered what had brought this sudden confidence but decided that it didn’t matter. Kili and Thorin only sat side by side, not quite touching but their connection was unmistakable. After a moment, the company looked away, disinterested. They continued to sing.

One by one, the company went to bed until Thorin and Kili were the only ones left. They didn’t speak. They didn’t talk. Kili had half a mind to tell Thorin that this was toeing the line of being too intimate for what they had, but he couldn’t deny himself the comfort Thorin’s proximity and the knowledge of their safety provided. So they sat in silence in front of the dying fire until Thorin turned to him and said softly, “I want to have you.”

Kili’s breath was caught. Thorin’s eyes reflected the dancing orange glow of flame, but his gaze was hotter than fire. Kili found himself stirred in interest, his exhaustion forgotten. He nodded in acquiescence.

With dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard around them, it wasn’t an ideal setting, but Kili didn’t care. They went to Thorin’s bed, the one with the softest pillows and silkiest sheets and blanket, far from the other beds. They undressed in silence and climbed to bed. Kili lay on his back, looking at Thorin above him, leaning on his hands. Thorin’s eyes raked down his body slowly and a touch of self-consciousness tickled Kili conscience, but he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. He’s not as handsome as Dori or as muscular as Dwalin, but he wasn’t a completely sorry sight. Thorin seemed to think so as he slowly, he leaned down to capture his lips with his and Kili opened himself up willingly.

This was a familiar territory. Many times they had kissed as they were pressed together, pricks rubbing against each other and hands exploring each other’s body. The lack of clothing was a new dimension-a good dimension. Kili moaned softly as he caressed the firm muscles of Thorin’s chest and tugged the dark hair there lightly. Thorin’s back muscles rippled deliciously as he pulled away, looked at Kili for a moment, then kissed a small cut on his cheek. His shuddering breath made Kili tremble. Every cut and bruises on Kili’s body, Thorin caressed and kissed and Kili did the same to Thorin, trying to ease each other’s pain.

Kili sighed when Thorin’s warm mouth closed over his nipple to suck, tongue teasing the bud. It was gentle, not fitting for the setting but Kili whimpered in protest when Thorin left the bud before switching his attention to the other nipple. Thorin’s touches were no longer exploratory or healing, but desiring. Kili bit back his whimpers and grabbed Thorin’s head to keep it where it was. His cock began to throb in time with his heart beat and he was hard pressed not to grind against Thorin’s abdomen. Against his thigh, Thorin’s hardness pressed insistently. When their mouths met again, it was passionate and heated. Fingers dig into skin as they rocked against each other, the bed softly creaking under them. Thorin slid his hand purposefully down Kili’s back until he reached his buttocks. His fingers sought Kili’s entrance and pressed against the puckered ring, his intention very clear.

“Oil,” Kili gasped.

Thorin hummed and sucked a bruise on Kili’s collarbone until he keened quietly. He left Kili for a moment and returned with a bottle of weapon oil. Kneeling between Kili’s eagerly spread legs, he oiled his fingers, and then gently pushed one into Kili. Kili arched his back, his eyes closed in bliss. He hadn’t realized how he had longed for this, the feeling of being full and complete. Thorin’s finger was thick and every smooth slide of it made him rock his hips back for more. He took his cock in his hand as Thorin caressed him inside. He stroked himself slowly, not wanting to spill before Thorin was inside him. When Thorin pushed another finger in, he moaned hungrily at the stretch. The fingers spread and probed and then were joined by another. There was a sting but Kili quickly adjusted. He watched Thorin’s rather awed expression from under heavy lidded eyes and smiled dreamily. He fucked himself on the digits, gasping now and then when his prostate was touched. It might seem a bit desperate but he was eager for the girth he had had in his mouth and hands so many times before. Moreover, he knew the effect of such display of impatience on lovers. He smirked when Thorin moaned quietly and finally withdrew his fingers.

After covering his cock with oil, Thorin leaned down to cover Kili’s body with his. With one hand supporting him and the other guiding himself, he asked Kili, “Ready?”

“Of course,” Kili replied, grinning.

The fat head of Thorin’s cock pushed against his loosened entrance, pressing insistently until Kili’s body engulfed it. After that, his thick length slid home into Kili, stretching him perfectly. Kili gasped and moaned, pulling Thorin close to him and wrapped his legs around Thorin’s waist. His cock drooled pre-spend between them and he came perilously close to the edge, wonderfully stretched by Thorin’s cock. He felt tight, as if just one miniscule shift would make him come, but he didn’t want to come yet, not when Thorin had just entered him. Occupied with withholding his release, he almost didn’t realize how Thorin kissed his neck and shoulder and caressed his side. Kili smiled to the ceiling as he adjusted to the pleasure until he had himself under control again.

“Move,” he whispered to Thorin’s ear.

Thorin shivered and then obeyed. He rocked his hips, as if unwilling to be too far apart from Kili. Kili smiled and stroked whatever body part was within reach, his heaving chest, clenching abdomen, tight nipples (which Kili took pleasure flicking and rolling to make Thorin’s rhythm stutter), and strong arms. Under the dim orange firelight, Thorin’s sweaty body seemed to glow as he surged into Kili over and over again. Kili pushed Thorin’s hair to one side, wanting to see how he lost himself in his body. His lips curled up when he saw the slack mouth, the heated gaze,  and the flushed skin. Thorin’s rhythm was initially slow, testing the limit, but dwarves weren’t fragile. Kili proved this by clenching around him, pulling a groan from his mouth, and grinned wickedly. Thorin frowned at this at first but then gripped his hip and slammed into him, making him gasp sharply. The smacking noises of Thorin’s hips meeting Kili’s bottom were drowned by the snoring of dwarves. Kili whimpered, pulling Thorin closer by tightening his legs around his waist. He tried to meet every thrust and kissed Thorin when he felt he couldn’t contain his noises anymore.

As their pace grew more frenzied, Thorin slipped his hand between their bodies to stroke Kili. Being very familiar with this, he immediately found what Kili loved best and gave him firm strokes. The additional pleasure made Kili writhe and keen quietly, making Thorin groan quietly above him. His balls tightened and his prick hardened further in Thorin’s hand, as his body tensed in anticipation of ecstasy. He bucked his hips, trying to get Thorin deeper in him, and thrust up to the tight clasp of the calloused hand. The skillful touch, hard thrusts, and the way Thorin gazed at him as if he presented the most fascinating view in the world unraveled Kili and he knew he was going to come soon. Thorin seemed to sense this because he began to thoroughly pound Kili, sliding against Kili’s prostate perfectly every time.

Kili came with a muffled groan, tension leaving his body along with the thick pearly liquid spurting from his cock. He arched his back and pulled Thorin even closer by his legs, wanting to be as full as possible. Thorin stroked him through his pleasure, though his face showed the strain of controlling himself while Kili clenched around him so tightly. With Kili’s legs wound tight around his hips, he couldn’t move much but it didn’t matter. Quick short jabs into Kili’s core were all he needed. Seconds later, he followed Kili, burying his face in his neck as he spilled inside him. Feeling the twitches of the cock inside him, Kili moaned softly and caressed Thorin’s damp back, loving how the muscles shuddered in bliss. He slackened his legs in exhaustion and let Thorin moved inside him languorously until he softened. They slowed down gradually into a stop, panting harshly. Around them, their friends continued to sleep.

Unable to help himself, Kili laughed softly. Thorin lifted his head to look at his questioningly. “I can’t believe we did that with everyone around us.”

Thorin grunted but his lips quirked into a smirk. “Not for the first time.”

Kili laughed again, louder this time. Nearby, a dwarf snorted and grunted in annoyance. Kili clasped a hand over his mouth although his eyes danced in mirth. On top of him, Thorin’s shoulder shook slightly as he held back his laughter.

Once the dwarf had gone back to sleep, Thorin pulled out carefully, leaving Kili empty once again. Except he wasn’t. He could feel Thorin’s seed slowly left his body. Thorin noticed it, too, as he looked at Kili’s entrance for a while before clearing his throat and grabbing a cloth to clean them both. Kili stretched, enjoying the attention for a while, pleased to see his effects on Thorin, before getting up to put his clothes back on, knowing from experience that it’s easier to retreat to his own space after intimacy. It’s a pity actually since Thorin’s bed was very comfortable and large enough for two, but Kili knew when and where to draw the lines. He went to his own bed some distance away from Thorin and lay down, sighing as cool sheets touched his heated skin. Already, he missed Thorin’s body heat. He looked at Thorin and saw that he was only in his breeches, sitting on his bed, staring at him.

“Sleep well,” Kili said sleepily.

Thorin nod was the last thing Kili saw before sleep claimed him. He slept very well. Beorn’s house was a rather far cry from Rivendell, but the bone deep satiation he felt quickly brought him dreamland. He was awakened in the morning by the sounds of dwarves fighting over breakfast. When he opened his eyes, he saw Thorin wearing his shoes. Realizing Kili’s gaze, he looked up. Tension had left him, leaving only peacefulness and contentment, and he was suddenly a completely different dwarf, younger, less burdened by time. He smiled warmly to Kili, making his heart skipped a beat. He had done this, Kili realized in a daze and he smiled back.

It’s easier with others knowing about them. They could spend all day sitting together without worrying about raising suspicion. The company seemed to think this was the norm (except for Bilbo who kept throwing glances at them) and said nothing, even when they disappeared together for privacy. Not wanting to give the wrong impression, Kili tried to divide his attention evenly among the company-Bofur in particular was always up for a little teasing (but nothing more, as Bofur seemed to have his eyes set on a certain hobbit), very effective in dispelling the thought that Kili and Thorin were in a real relationship. Thorin seemed to have finally understood the nature of their relationship and smiled and looked away whenever Kili was feeling playful with other dwarfs. There was still a light of hope in his eyes whenever they were together, but Thorin expertly controlled it, though Kili still made sure to not encourage it. However, Kili couldn’t deny that he enjoyed Thorin’s companionship better than most others’. He’s an excellent companion. Not the most fun or the funniest, but still excellent. He was a little broody, but who wouldn’t be after going through what he had gone through? Kili tried to understand when these dark mood strike Thorin, when he thought of long days on the marshes and working for ungrateful Men. There were lessons of determination and patience to be learnt from these experiences and Kili focused on them rather than complaining about the grimness. He cherished moments when Thorin was in a good mood, playfully teasing people around him (or offending, depending on who you asked). Those moments Kili thought he saw the glimpse of the happy prince he had been in Erebor, one who knew nothing of dragon’s fire and traitorous allies. After a while, Kili began to think he almost rivaled Fili in terms of favorite companion, though of course he was a favorite companion for different reasons.

One time they stole away to behind the tall hedges of Beorn’s property, the buzzing of the bees masking their moans and gasps. A couple of times they couldn’t wait and simply hid behind a tree, muffling their noises with deep kisses. A few times Kili sneaked into Thorin’s bed when others were deep in sleep and they took their time, biting back mischievous laughter as they rocked together. Every time, when passion had been satiated, they gave each other a private smile and it was perhaps the best part of it all: To know that he shared Thorin shared this with him and no one else. It was childish and selfish, to want to be a favorite, but Kili wouldn’t claim to be the most mature dwarf in the company, and certainly not when Thorin treated him this kindly.

Eventually they must leave Beorn’s house and faced again great dangers in the road to Erebor. From what Beorn had told them, the road would only become harder. The goblins and their wargs were likely pursuing them and the Mirkwood seemed to carry its own threats in the form of unfriendly environment. There were many things to worry about. Even as Kili sang along with his friends once they were far from Beorn’s house, his heart wasn’t fully in the happy songs. Some of their companions had forgotten the dangers waiting for him, but not the warriors. Dwalin was quietly peered at dark trees and suspicious shadows, Gloin crouched protectively over his chest of gold coins, Balin surreptitiously remained close to his weapon, Thorin sat on rocks to give him better vantage points of their camps, and Kili and Fili volunteered to take the night watch nearly every night. It made the younger dwarfs drowsy during the day but it was but a small sacrifice.

Night after night, Kili took turn guarding the camp from goblins, orcs, and wargs. He had encountered them often enough at this point that he took his task with full seriousness. He borrowed books from Ori and Balin to keep him awake at night, something which became harder and harder to do as the days went on. The naps he took while riding Beorn’s pony and while waiting for his turn to watch over the camp weren’t enough but they had no time for proper rest. Kili sighed tiredly as he leaned his head on the rock behind him. Around him the company snored peacefully, some unaware of the potential dangers and others temporarily forgetting them in sleep. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. The words in the book on his lap had begun to blur together in his tiredness and when he did manage to read, he couldn’t understand a single thing. His body craved rest, yet dawn was still far away. The night sky was still the darkest shade of blue, the moon and the stars still bright and high. It seemed that this would be a very long night.

Kili frowned when he heard approaching footsteps but when he saw that it was Thorin who was approaching his post, he closed his eyes. The road had given them no time and privacy and he understood the frustration Thorin must’ve felt. However, Kili didn’t want it this time. He was too tired and it wasn’t appropriate to indulge, knowing the threats around them. Kili resolutely kept his eyes closed when Thorin sat beside him, hoping he would catch the hint that Kili wasn’t interested. Kili held the book he was reading with both hands so that Thorin couldn’t pull them to his lap. For a moment, they both said nothing, only sitting next to each other with their sides pressed together. Then, Thorin reached out for Kili’s hand. His rough fingers touched the back of Kili’s hand and Kili frowned, pulling his hand away slightly.

“Not tonight, Thorin.”

Even without looking, Kili knew that Thorin had tensed and stilled at the reprimand. He waited for Thorin to be offended or to leave. Kili had never refused him before. In fact, Kili had always been eager to be with him (and he still was. Just not at the moment). Thorin was also rarely denied anything. Kili could only imagine how Thorin might feel about his rejection.

“That’s not what I’m here for,” Thorin said, his voice surprisingly calm, leading Kili to open his eyes and look at him. Thorin looked mildly annoyed but not angry as Kili had thought he would be. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “You’re tired. Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch,” he said gently.

 Kili shook his head. “I’m all right. I’m a little tired but I can do this,” he insisted.

“Kili,” Thorin said firmly, silencing Kili’s argument. “The road is still far and you need to be in good condition. Don’t overwork yourself. Have some rest.”

Before Kili could argue, Thorin took the book from Kili’s hands and set it aside. He quirked an eyebrow, looking at Kili until he gave up. Sighing in defeat, he shifted closer to Thorin who was far more comfortable than the rock behind him and warmer than the fire in front of him. He looked at the sleeping figures around him one last time then leaned his head on Thorin’s shoulder. Much to Kili’s annoyance, immediately after he did so, his body relaxed. Sleepiness enveloped him, impossible to fight. It’s as if his body decided that everything was well now that Thorin was here.

“Wake me up if you hear or see anything,” Kili mumbled, closing his eyes. He distantly heard Thorin’s answering grunt before he fell asleep completely. Exhausted, his sleep was dreamless but quite restful.

When he woke up, the sky had turned lighter shade of blue. The stars had grown dim and the moon nearly disappeared. Beside him, Thorin was awake still, looking at the distance while holding Kili’s hand. He didn’t seem to notice that Kili was awake, so Kili took the moment to admire his profile. Time and suffering had left Thorin a hardened dwarf. It was easy to mistake him for consisting only of vengefulness and ambition, but Kili knew this wasn’t true, especially after the time they had spent on the journey. Thorin was kind, gentle, playful, caring, and selfless. It’s true that he had his flaws and sometimes these flaws made it difficult to see any positive side of him. But who didn’t have any flaw? To Kili Thorin wasn’t any more imperfect than other dwarf or hobbit or Men.

And now Kili knew that Thorin was anxious for the road ahead, worried for his company’s lives despite appearing uncaring and heartless. Unable to help himself, Kili nuzzled Thorin’s jaw. He grinned when Thorin turned to him in surprise. “Anything suspicious last night?”

Thorin shook his head. “No. How was your sleep?”

“Very good. Thank you,” Kili said squeezing Thorin’s hand lightly. His heart seemed to skip a beat when a smile bloomed on Thorin’s face, beautiful and affectionate. Kili quickly dismissed the silly feeling. It must be his lack of sleep. “You must be tired. There’s still time before we leave. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not that tired,” Thorin said quietly. But, he looked at Kili a moment more before squeezing his hand one last time and then standing up.

Kili watched him return to his bedroll. A small part of him wanted to follow Thorin, to lie next to him and dream together. But, his watch wasn’t over yet and despite what some thought of him, Kili was aware of his responsibilities. So sighed and counted the minutes to their departure. The morning air was cold but he was unbothered. He picked up the book Thorin had left behind and turned the pages until he found where he last left off. His hand still tingled with the warm phantom touch of Thorin’s hand.

Mirkwood was dark, silent, and had no sign of life at all. Gandalf departure seemed to seal their fates. However, they had no choice but to cross the forest to reach Erebor. They entered the forest with great trepidation, remembering various warnings from Gandalf and Beorn. Kili immediately sensed that there’s something not right with Mirkwood. It was too dark. The dense trees and foliages completely blocked out the sun, a most unusual and terrifying thing. The large cobwebs hanging from and wrapping around trees were most worrying sights. No normal spider could make something of such scale and he dreaded to think how abnormal the spiders which made these were. He kept these thoughts to himself, not wanting to scare the others, but maybe they, too, felt the strangeness of the atmosphere for they were unusually quiet and cautious. Kili couldn’t help but look back to the entrance just before it disappeared completely, contemplating returning to the light and risking fights with goblins over darkness. However, this path led directly to the Lonely Mountain and time was of essence. So, with great reluctance, Kili turned away from the entrance and plunged himself into the pitch darkness of Mirkwood.

The night was worse. Somehow the darkness seemed to thicken. It blindfolded them and wrapped around them so completely. Kili was grateful when Dwalin volunteered to take the first watch. He wasn’t that tired, but he didn’t like this place, the eyes watching them, and the darkness covering them. They slept huddled close, arms linking so that if one were to roll away (be taken away, they didn’t dare to say), it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Kili lay down with Thorin and Fili on either side of him but he couldn’t sleep. He kept sensing and seeing eyes staring at the company and he feared that once he closed his eyes, one of the owners of those eyes would leap from the shadows and attack them. He held his blade tightly but it offered little comfort.

Kili shut his eyes tightly and buried his face in the fur of Thorin’s coat. He wanted to sleep. He knew that he would need the energy tomorrow and he wanted a moment of reprieve from this fear, but he remained awake even when he could hear some of the dwarfs snore. They, too, had restless sleep because their quiet breathings were often interrupted with gasps and murmurs before a tense silence followed. This made him feel even worse.

Kili started when Thorin turned his face so that his cheek was pressed against Kili’s temple. “It’s all right,” Thorin said very quietly, minding that in this silence his voice could be heard easily. His voice was roughened by exhaustion of the body and mind but Kili had no energy to calm him.

“Those eyes,” Kili whispered back. “They’re….”

“Watching us,” Thorin finished for him. “I know, but try to rest. We need energy to leave this forsaken place as soon as possible.”

Eventually, Kili did manage to sleep but it didn’t refresh him at all the next day. The darkness, the lack of food, the sense of hopelessness all conspired against him and he began to tire easily as days went on. His ability to feel and bring joy left him, allowing him to only be weary and fearful. The path seemed endless and days blurred into nights. There’s almost no difference between the two times now, as they were nearly as dark. The progress was sadly marked only by their depleting provisions. Kili knew that they could survive without food for a while despite what Bombur believed, but water they couldn’t go without. He dared only took a few gulps of their supply so that it wouldn’t run out so soon. His lips were soon parched and his throat dry but he bore with it. It was a pity that the next time they saw water when they arrived at the enchanted river, they weren’t allowed to drink it. If anything, the water was a bad omen. Bombur fell to the river and the magic of the river had claimed his consciousness. So distraught they were by the bad luck that when a white deer appeared down the path, they grabbed their bows and arrows without thinking to shoot it. The deer ran away completely unscathed and Thorin’s angry shouts reminded them too late that they had wasted their weapons.

Armless and with dwindling supplies, they continued to walk slowly, this time while taking turn carrying Bombur. This seemed to go on for centuries. The atmosphere was somber as exhaustion ate away their hopefulness for an end. Even when they reached a part of the forest where the darkness wasn’t as pervasive, they couldn’t celebrate for they could see that the road was still long. When one day they sent Bilbo up a tree to investigate and he reported nothing but trees as far as eyes could see, even Thorin decided that they should stop and make a camp despite having only walked for a few hours. He tried to look strong but in the very dim greenish light Kili recognized his fatigue. Just as the rest of them, he was slowly losing hope. Kili was too tired to cheer him, but he couldn’t leave Thorin alone in this state. When that night they were eating their last food and drank their last water, Kili sidled close to Thorin.

“Here,” he said, offering his share of water.

Thorin looked at the canteen and swallowed thickly. He had been the first to drink, being their leader, but it was clear that he was still thirsty. “What about you?” he asked, his voice rough.

Kili had only taken half a gulp but he felt that Thorin needed the water more than he did. Thorin had to make it out of this forest. He had to remain strong and hopeful and Kili would do anything in his power to help. “I’ve had enough,” Kili said, shaking his head.

Thorin hesitated a moment before accepting the offer. Kili bit his lip when he heard Thorin greedily swallow the water. Kili dreamt of swimming in a fountain that night, one of those large fountains they had seen in Rivendell. Oh, how they had taken water for granted that time. They had merely played in the fountain, not realizing how scarce water would be further on their journey. Kili whimpered as he was tortured by this dream and whimpered even more when he woke and discovered that it was raining but the water couldn’t go through the foliage. Still, he opened his mouth, hoping for drops of water to fall to his tongue. However, he only got drier throat for his troubles. Not even Bombur waking could improve his, or anyone’s, mood. They walked slowly, dazed by hunger and thirst, their determination dying.

Thus, when they saw lights, a chance to receive help or at least found other living beings, they decided to leave the path and chased them. Kili’s relief when he discovered that the lights were coming from a group of dancing elves quickly evaporated when they stepped into the light and the elves disappeared. His frustration grew even more when the company discovered that they couldn’t find the path again. But while this sounded like a terrible situation, worse was yet to come as it seemed that the elves were now keen on teasing them. They were woken twice by sightings of the lights which died the second they stepped into it. Despite this, even Kili couldn’t resist when he watched over the company and saw those lights. He woke the others and they ran toward it, hoping for help and pity. Instead, this time they got separated from each other. Running around in circles with only voices to guide them, they became hopelessly lost in the dark forest. Tripping and tumbling on roots and shrubs, Kili grew weary. He slowed down, trying to catch his breath so he could seek his friends again, only to be captured by the spiders.

Despite being weakened by hunger and having no weapon with him, Kili still put up a fight. He grabbed whatever heavy object was nearest to him and hit the spider with it. He even managed to somehow kick one of its eyes. However, his fight was futile, easily stopped by sticky webs wrapped around him. His scream of anger was muffled by the same web which covered nearly his entire face. Perhaps angered by his resistance, the spider tied him roughly, pulling him this way and that and wrapping its web around Kili until he almost couldn’t breathe. Tightly bound and almost suffocated, Kili began to panic. He tried to thrash around but he barely managed to move. The spider seemed to sense his fight, however. Kili screamed when he felt large fangs stabbing his shoulder. He could feel poison running down his veins, making him dizzy and weak. His heart pounding only made things worse, accelerating the course of the poison, and air seemed to cease entering his lungs. He took deep breaths of air to calm himself but it did no good. Kili felt numb. He could feel spiders’ legs on him, hanging his bound body somewhere, and his body screamed at him to fight but he couldn’t. He bit his tongue but the pain and the blood he tasted barely enabled him to control his bound limbs.

When he was rescued, he felt very ill. He tried to fight the spiders but had to lean on Fili to remain standing. His mind was hazy and he was certain what’s happening. He knew Bilbo was doing something and Fili was pulling him away somewhere, but he didn’t understand. It wasn’t until later when the spiders had fled, seemingly frightened off by the circle left by the elves, that he heard about Bilbo’s magic ring. It was the sort of thing which would excite him in other times for he loved tall tales of magic and adventures, but now he could barely nod in understanding. He hoped the poison wasn’t dangerous, as Oin couldn’t examine and treat him without light. Hopefully, the fact that he was still alive despite being bitten by a spider that large was a good sign. It’s with this thought in mind that Kili went to sleep. He had just fallen asleep when Dwalin’s question roused him.

“Where is Thorin?”

Despite his pain and exhaustion, Kili leapt awake. Frantically, the dwarfs looked for their leader but he was nowhere to be found. Had the spiders caught him? Had he been lost to the forest? Kili’s chest hurt from the pounding of his heart when he thought of the possibilities, none of them good. He cursed the damned forest for its tricks and magic but cursing would do no good. “We must find him!” he insisted though he wobbled on his feet when he stood.

Fili pulled him down to sit as Balin tried to reason with him. “It’s too dark. We can’t risk losing another dwarf, or a hobbit,” the scribe said.

“But Thorin…”

Balin put a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t look for him tonight, lad. It will only do more harm than good. Rest, so we can properly look for him tomorrow.”

Balin was right, but still Kili couldn’t sleep well, his worry waking him every so often. He saw those eyes in the darkness again and thought of how Thorin might be there, facing those dark animals on his own. The poison in his body weakened him and gave him frightful nightmares filled with spiders and Thorin’s broken body. Kili was tired and in pain, fight had almost left him completely. When the next day they were captured by the elves, he only struggled briefly before surrendering. He let them tie him up and quietly marched behind Fili to the Elvenking’s cave. He had only the presence of mind to not give away Thorin’s existence and their original purpose when being questioned. When he was thrown into his cell and once the cell door closed behind him, Kili fell to his knees. The stone floor was cool as it was an underground prison and it eased the fever he just realized he had. With a quiet whimper, Kili lie down on the floor and fell asleep. When Kili woke up, he found a tumbler of water and a bowl of porridge near the cell door. Abandoning pride, he crawled toward them. He drank the water greedily, cooling what seemed to be a furnace inside his body, and ate some of the porridge. The spider poison was still strong in his body, so he went to the small cot on a corner. Kili covered himself with coarse blankets and slept. He dreamt of happy nights in Beorn’s house forever ago when he had snuck into Thorin’s bed when others were asleep. He dreamt of Thorin’s kind smile and warm embrace and tender kisses. When he woke and found himself completely alone, he buried his face on the cot so that the fabric would absorb the wetness on his cheeks.

Kili’s cell was dark and cold with no window. No sound was carried to his cell, almost no sign whatsoever that he wasn’t the only one here. The elves came to bring him food and water twice a day but never spoke to him and he didn’t trust them enough to start talking. This silence was his last bit of resistance because after a while (a week? A fortnight? He couldn’t tell) he couldn’t even muster the urge to glower at his captors. He ate their food and drank their water and was grateful for any interaction, no matter how brief and one-sided. The thought of running away crossed his mind at first, but it disappeared when he saw nothing but darkness outside his cell whenever the elves came. He wouldn’t know the way out of the dungeon and even if he did and somehow managed to leave the prison, he would immediately be lost in the forest. Disappointing as it was, to stay imprisoned was Kili’s greatest chance at survival.

Left with no one to talk to and nothing to do, Kili’s mind often wandered to Thorin. He thought of when and where Thorin had gotten separated from them. He recounted every moment but there were too many possibilities. They were in panic and desperation and it was so dark they could barely see each others’ shadows. Thorin could’ve gotten lost at any moment and he could be anywhere now… or nowhere. Kili hugged his legs close to his chest and buried his face on his knees. Thorin was exhausted, hungry, and without weapon and the forest was too dangerous. The spiders saw very well in the dark and so were the elves. Thorin was a great warrior but he wouldn’t be able to fight them, not on his own. Even if he somehow managed to evade both the spiders and the elves, the forest was no friendlier with its impenetrable darkness and little resources. Kili would like to think he managed to find a way to survive and even return to the path and leave Mirkwood, but he knew this was very unlikely. In the pit of despair in the dark cell, Kili struggled to find a hope for himself, his company, and Thorin.

He didn’t expect, however, for the hope to come as a quiet whisper. Kili had heard of madness brought by isolation and for a moment thought that he had succumbed to it, until the voice called him again from the keyhole. He all but ran toward the door.

“Bilbo!” he exclaimed, surprised and relieved when he recognized the voice. He pressed close to the metal door, trying to be as close as possible to the first and only source of interaction in an eternity.

“Yes, yes, it’s me. Please be quiet,” Bilbo whispered nervously. “How are you?”

Kili sighed wearily. “I’m well.” He wasn’t, not physically, but he couldn’t admit to Bilbo that his mind was plague by hopelessness of his situation and Thorin’s unknown whereabouts. He’s a dwarf. He’s supposed to be strong, although he felt no stronger than a mouse at the moment. “I’m well,” he repeated more quietly.

“Good! I have news. I think it will make you feel much better. I have found Thorin’s cell.”

Kili’s eyes widened. “Thorin?” he repeated loudly in disbelief. He lowered his volume when Bilbo shushed him through the door. His hands shook but this time not out of cold or fear. “So, he…”

“He’s alive and well. Or, well, as well as he could be in his situation.”

Relief washed over Kili. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but he somehow found a way to do both. He tried to be quiet but the news was the first big breath of air he’d had since he entered Mirkwood and he felt he could shout and be heard across Middle Earth. He smiled widely as Bilbo informed him of Thorin’s message, barely comprehending the content, only knowing that Thorin was somewhere here with them, safe and alive. He also found out about the plan to escape, though no one knew yet how exactly they would do that. But, Kili was sure Bilbo, the unexpectedly crafty hobbit, would find a way to release them.

When Bilbo was going to leave, Kili couldn’t help himself. “Can you tell Thorin…” he said then stopped himself in the middle. What should he say? He wanted to say he’s glad Thorin was alive, that the thought of him dead or dying had tortured him for weeks, that he couldn’t wait to see him again, that he craved to see him again, that… Kili shut his eyes. There’s so much he wanted to say. He didn’t know where to begin and where it would end.

“I’ll tell him I’ve found you and you are very happy to hear from him,” Bilbo said, his voice gentle and understanding.

Kili thought of it for a moment, then nodded although Bilbo couldn’t see it. “Yes, please.”

Bilbo didn’t immediately come up with a plan but Kili personally didn’t mind. He sent messages to his friends through Bilbo, encouraging them that freedom was near. Fili replied with a demand to know his condition, whether he was injured in any way and whether the spider’s poison still affected him. Bofur apparently sang in joy, though Bilbo didn’t understand a single word of his song and only told Kili that it sounded happy (and far too loud, he complained.). The rest of the company expressed their hopefulness. Thorin said nothing. Though a little disappointed of the lack of news from Thorin, Kili did his best to remind everyone everyday that not all hope was lost and he smiled at every returning message that he shouldn’t lose hope, either. He didn’t lose hope and, in fact, had begun to prepare himself for the escape. He started to exercise in his cell, reacquainting his disused muscles to rigorous activities which were sure to follow. He rebuilt his stamina everyday with what little he had in his cell and given by the elves, until one day Bilbo opened his cell door.

Fili was the first dwarf he saw (or at least the first shadow he recognized) when he left his cell. They hugged tightly, glad to be together again. Even after Kili managed to pry himself off Fili, he still wouldn’t let him go. Fili seemed to echo his reluctance to part and made no move to pull his hand away. Kili felt stronger by the second surrounded by friends and family, as they went from cell to cell, releasing their friends, until they reached the final cell at the deepest part of the dungeon. Kili exhaled sharply when Thorin came out of his cell. Now he understood why Thorin had pulled him away from the company after they escaped the thunder battle. Kili wanted to make sure that this wasn’t a cruel illusion and that Thorin was all right. He wanted to check for any injury and tend to them with his own two hands. He wanted to ease any pain Thorin might feel. But their time was limited. So, he kept his silence and followed Bilbo’s lead. A quick pat on his back by Thorin was his only solace. He wanted more. He craved for more. But, that would have to do for now.

Bilbo’s plan wasn’t convincing to say the least and the prospect of being confined inside a barrel for who knew how long wasn’t very appealing. However, this might be their only chance to escape and after a little argument, they all agreed to hide inside the empty barrels. Kili was for once grateful for his smaller size because the space inside the barrel wasn’t very large, something many dwarfs rather loudly complained about. The straws used as cushioning weren’t very comfortable but he was by now used to sleeping on hard grounds and stone cell floor. Kili sat on the bottom of his barrel and listened carefully for the elves to come and send them to their release. Unlike Bilbo, he wished that this would get the elf guards in trouble after the way they treated the dwarfs. He scoffed, thinking of all manners of punishment the Elvenking would give them. When he heard the light footsteps of the elves, he quieted down and braced himself.

It was an unpleasant ride. Kili had stronger words in mind to describe it, but he didn’t want to sound too whiny, so it was a _very_ unpleasant ride. Despite the straws he was still thrown about inside the barrel. The air holes let water in and he was dripping wet in almost no time at all. He briefly thought of the rest of his company but he was too busy avoiding smacking against solid wood to think of them for long. Even when they reached calmer part of the river, he couldn’t relax as his stomach somersaulted violently. Kili closed his eyes and tried to sleep it off but it was no use. The ride was too uncomfortable to allow such reprieve, so he gritted his teeth and tried to will his stomach to hold what little content it had. He thought of his geography lesson and tried to predict how close he was to the Long Lake, how much longer he must suffer. Hours, he thought miserably. But he stayed his tongue when he wanted to complain and took deep breaths when his gut protested. He thought of happier days at home, his mother waiting for his return, Fili expecting him to join in some fun, and Thorin smiling when he finally wore his crown.

Eventually, much to Kili’s relief, the barrel slowed then stopped. Kili heard voices outside but didn’t dare to even risk a peek. Bilbo would open his barrel when the time had come but before then he must be cautious. At least, now they were no longer moving and thrown around their barrels painfully. Kili couldn’t tell the time but he took the opportunity to sleep. He was cold and nauseous so he curled up and hugged himself tightly, trying to keep himself warm. If this escape was a success, they should be very close to the Lonely Mountain and he should be healthy for the final part of the journey. He couldn’t get sick. He mustn’t. He must take his company to their destination. He would see Thorin crowned. So, thinking of these, Kili slept and dreamt of the sun.

Kili jolted awake when the lid of his barrel was removed. He abandoned dignity and crawled out, hungry for fresh air and freedom of movement. He had only put one hand on the sandy shore when he was pulled up rather unceremoniously. His weak protest was silenced, his pain and bruises mostly forgotten, when he came face to face with Thorin. It was dark and the moon was hiding behind the cloud, but Kili could see clearly the worried line on Thorin’s face. His heart clenched and he felt weakened by worry, his mind spinning dark tales of horrible treatments received by Thorin away from his company. Thorin started to speak but Fili’s release from his barrel distracted him. Kili frowned when Thorin moved away to help his brother, but didn’t protest, understanding that it wasn’t time for reunion. He dutifully helped the rest of the company out of their barrels, although not without stealing glances at Thorin. When Bilbo proposed to go to Laketown, he followed faithfully behind him and Thorin.

It wasn’t easy to gain an audience with the Master of the Town, but they persisted. Though they were granted permission to meet the Master of Laketown, Kili and Fili were still far from relaxed. They were outnumbered and without weapons and there were elf guards dining with the Master. When they heard crowd outside shouting Thorin’s name, demanding to see him, they were even more nervous. Kili only half listened to Thorin when he negotiated with the Master, focused instead on any possible threat. He was astonished when he heard the crowd began to chant a song of prophesy of the mountain-king’s return to his land. He had heard of it before, of course, for it was one of the few things which could cheer Thorin on gloomy days, but he had expected people to have forgotten as it had been at least a couple of generations for them. To hear them sing the song with such enthusiasm emboldened Kili. It seemed that they weren’t entirely without support. When he looked at Thorin he saw that he was standing taller, lifting his chin higher, owning the title given to him by his people and forefather: The King under the Mountain.

With overwhelming support from the people, they were accepted in Laketown. Thorin was made to sit on the Master’s chair and Fili and Kili sat on either side of him. Soon, their company joined them and was welcomed as warmly as Thorin was. It wasn’t as lavish as feasts Kili had attended in Ered Luin but it was the kindest treatment they had had since they left Beorn’s house. The acceptance, warm fire, and delicious food helped them recover. Their gloom was chased away by ale and though they were too busy eating to sing songs for their host, the people were more than happy to provide entertainment by singing songs about the dwarfs of Erebor. Kili tried to enjoy it but his attention was drawn repeatedly to Thorin beside him. Unlike the rest of the company, Thorin restrained himself, displaying authority to further reinforce people’s opinion of him. He seemed to be the strong dwarf Kili had always admired and followed, but Kili was nagged by doubt, fearing that this was only a façade to cover actual pain. So, when they were brought to a house of their own after dinner, Kili couldn’t help himself. Before Thorin could retire to his room (naturally, the grandest and most spacious room in the house), Kili grabbed his arm to stop him. Thorin looked at him in surprise, as did Fili who expected Kili to share a room with his as he usually did in travels.

Kili tried to explain himself, but words stopped at his throat and refused to be spoken. He begged for understanding with his eyes and slight tightening of his hand on Thorin’s arm. Thorin looked at him for a moment, then to Fili behind him. Much to Kili’s relief, he nodded in understanding and led Kili to his room. Kili spared no more than a glance to Fili and the rest of the company. He would deal with them later when his mind was quieter and his heart was calmer. Now, his mind was only on Thorin.

Once the door of Thorin’s room closed behind him, Kili took a deep breath, trying to rearrange his thoughts. However, he then looked at Thorin and saw much to his concern, for the first time, how tired he was. He had appeared strong in public, barely affected by their imprisonment and difficult escape, but now his shoulders were slumped and his gaze was less sharp. He seemed older than he was, as if they were separated for a decade instead of a month. Fear filled Kili. What else he had missed? What else Thorin was hiding?

“What is it, Kili?” Thorin ask, his voice as tired and rough as he looked.

Thorin had no time to react as Kili crossed the distance between them in a couple of steps. When Kili pressed his lips onto his, he froze, but Kili didn’t care. He slid his hand to Thorin’s nape, impatiently pulling him into the kiss, as he savored the feeling of having Thorin’s within reach, warm and strong and real. He sighed when Thorin’s arms enveloped him and Thorin began to kiss back. He licked the seam of Thorin’s lips, coaxing him to open them, and in no time at all was he was granted entry. Kili moaned quietly when their tongues met and caressed soft palates as they pressed closer to each other as if at loath to be apart. Kili didn’t know about Thorin, but he knew he didn’t want to be separated from him.

Kili moaned and whimpered every time their lips parted for even a millisecond, prompting Thorin to close the distance again. His hands were restless, stroking Thorin and undoing buttons. He slipped a hand inside Thorin’s shirt, caressing his torso, and frowned when he felt Thorin’s ribs more pronounced than before. Indeed he was thinner. The muscles he had spent years developing had significantly diminished. Anger and grief filled Kili and he pulled away from the kiss and spared just a moment to take in the flush on Thorin’s cheeks and the redness of his swollen lips before falling down to his knees. He deftly undid Thorin’s breeches and pulled it down low enough to expose his half hard cock. Thorin groaned when he licked his length, coaxing it to full hardness expertly. The familiar taste and musk was intoxicating and Kili couldn’t help tracing each vein with his tongue and pressing wet kisses on the hardness. In other times, Kili would try to draw as many noises as he could from the normally stoic king, but not tonight. Tonight, Kili quickly drew Thorin into his mouth as deep as he could and began sucking.

As he bobbed his head and stroked Thorin’s powerful thighs, Thorin made breathy noises above him. Thick fingers combed Kili’s tangled hair and then the hand settled on his head, not moving, just caressing. Though the cock was heavy and leaking in Kili’s mouth, Thorin only thrusted slowly, carefully. When he did lose control, he froze and called Kili’s name gently. This brought unexpected tears to Kili’s eyes. He closed his eyes as he redoubled his efforts, sucking harder and moving faster while his tongue flickered on the hardness in his mouth. The muscles of Thorin’s thighs tensed. He tasted pre-cum on the back of his tongue as Thorin’s hips began to buck irregularly and his finger dug slightly into Kili’s scalp. Caressing his heavy sacs, Kili could feel them tightening as Thorin’s release approached. He whined hungrily, closing his eyes as he took Thorin as deep as he could without choking.

“I’m going to…” Thorin warned breathlessly.

Kili hated to pull away, but as much as he wanted Thorin’s seed in his mouth, he wanted Thorin inside him even more. So, he withdrew, leaving the erection to twitch in cool night air, making Thorin moan quietly. Inside his trousers, his own cock throbbed impatiently, craving release. Quickly, Kili stood up and pulled Thorin toward the bed. They removed their clothes hastily, letting the clothes pooled around the bed to be dealt with much later. Thorin then sat on his bed, breathing heavily, his hard cock arching up proudly between his spread legs. The erotic sight made Kili groaned and he hastened to remove his clothing. Thorin wrapped his arms around Kili when he straddled his lap, but instead of surrendering to the touch, Kili pulled away to inspect Thorin’s body. Frantically, he searched for any sign on injury and his hands roamed the broad expanse of skin to search for any unseen wound. He released a shuddering breath as he encountered only old scars from past battles. Indeed, Thorin was thinner, but otherwise there was no visible scar. It seemed that the Elvenking hadn’t mistreated him and the spiders hadn’t hurt him. Still, Kili traced his protruding ribs and collarbones, regretting that Thorin had to go through any suffering at all, even if it’s for Erebor.

“Kili,” Thorin said, touching Kili’s chin so he would look at him. Beneath the heat of passion there was patience in his eyes as he tried to smile reassuringly. “I’m all right.”

Kili wanted to tell him that he definitely wasn’t but he knew it was a losing argument. Instead, he crushed their lips together as he undulated his hips purposefully, rubbing his cock on Thorin’s abdomen while Thorin’s cock slid between his cheeks. He swallowed Thorin’s groans and moans greedily, enjoying how tightly Thorin clutched his hips. He hoped there would be marks, something to remember this moment and to celebrate Thorin’s wellbeing. Kili broke the kiss to nip Thorin’s neck and shoulders, leaving small red marks on pale skin. He growled when Thorin threw his head back, exposing his vulnerable neck to him, allowing him to leave more marks on him, trusting him to do this to him. Only one second of hesitation was spared. Kili immediately latched onto the newly exposed skin, creating red marks Thorin’s hair would cover. Between them, Kili’s cock left a wet trail on Thorin’s abdomen. He moaned when Thorin’s hands slid back to squeeze his cheeks, those thick fingers coming so close to his entrance but not touching. He could come like this, rutting against the tight muscles of Thorin’s torso, but this wasn’t what he wanted.

When Kili pulled away, Thorin caught his intention immediately. “I have no oil with me,” he rasped out.

No, of course not. They had nothing with them as everything had been taken away before they were thrown into their cells. They had come to Laketown carrying only their pride and the clothes on their backs. Kili didn’t care, however, and stuck his fingers into his mouth, wetting them as much as possible. Quickly, he brought the wet digits to his entrance. “Spread me,” he breathed to Thorin.

Thorin’s eyes were glazed as he obeyed, spreading the meat of Kili’s buttocks with his large hands. With a steadying hand on Thorin’s shoulder, Kili reached back to tease his tight entrance with the tips of his wet fingers. Having gone so long without this, the ring of muscles tightened at the first touch, but Kili took a deep breath and pushed a finger in slowly. He had to stop at the first knuckle to take in the discomfort but he forced himself to adjust and pushed the finger as deep as he could. He moaned as he rocked onto the probing digit which didn’t reach as far as he wanted. The preparation proved to be a torment, reminding him of how Thorin felt filling him. Unsatisfied by the emptiness, he slid in a second finger. It stung, but he bit his lip and pressed the finger deeper inside. He had to spread his legs a little more, the lack of lubrication making this more uncomfortable than usual, but still he tried to push his fingers deeper to vainly imitate Thorin’s cock. This position made him arch his back slightly and he cried out when Thorin used the opportunity to lick and sucked his nipples, his beard teasing the soft skin of his chest. The hands on his buttocks started to knead, making Kili’s cock dripped early seed steadily. Whining softly, he spread his fingers and inserted a third digit, the last one. It was more uncomfortable than before but Thorin started lapping at his nipple before worrying it lightly between his teeth as the tip of his tongue flickered on it. Panting and moaning, Kili started to forget the discomfort, pushing his chest to Thorin’s warm mouth with a pleading sound.

“You’re so…” Thorin breathed against Kili’s damp chest. He cut himself off and nuzzled Kili’s neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

Unable to wait much longer, Kili pulled his fingers out. He spat to his hand and covered Thorin’s cock with his saliva. Then, Kili positioned the tip of Thorin’s cock at his entrance and lowered himself. He whimpered at the burn of being stretched, his body giving but not without slight resistance. There’s one moment when he thought it’s impossible, he hadn’t prepared himself properly and Thorin was too large, too much. But soon the head of Thorin’s cock was fully encased within him. What should be fulfilling opened emptiness within him, instead, as he was reminded to the nights Thorin spread him on his cock, reaching into his body where his fingers couldn’t touch. His body hungrily tried to pull Thorin’s cock deeper. Sobbing quietly, Kili sank down to take Thorin inside himself in one smooth stroke.

They panted together for a moment. This stretch, the cock inside him, the heat of the embrace, the sight of Thorin’s face slackened by passion were familiar, this almost seemed to be one of those lovely nights in Beorn’s house. His worry started to dissipate, but Kili was still not satisfied. He needed Thorin claiming him. He needed to feel Thorin inside him. He needed, he wanted Thorin. So, Kili bounced on Thorin’s lap quickly. He didn’t lift himself far, leaving the strokes short, and Thorin’s cock didn’t press against Kili’s prostate enough. But it was still satisfying to only be parted from Thorin briefly, to feel him deep inside him almost all the time, to feel his throbbing inside, and to have his hands clutching his hips tightly, to sense how his desperation matched Kili’s. Thorin groaned loudly and bucked up when Kili tightened around him and Kili could feel it, his control unraveling. Gasping for breath, Kili rode him at flying speed, his bottom smacking against Thorin’s thighs and hips loudly. He gripped Thorin’s shoulders as leverage as he threw his head back, trying to ride Thorin faster and harder. His thighs ached with the exertion, his hole sore with lack of lubrication, but he didn’t care. Desperation burnt inside him along with lust and he dug his fingers into Thorin’s shoulders.

“Kili,” Thorin suddenly gasped out. He ran his hands up Kili’s damp back, soothing him. “Kili. It’s all right. Slow down.”

Kili opened his eyes abruptly, meeting Thorin’s concerned and affectionate gaze. His rhythm faltered and stopped. “Thorin,” he could only say, his voice quaking. “Thorin.”

Thorin gathered him into his arms and pulled him close. Foreheads pressed together, he whispered, “I’m here. I’m here.”

Kili buried his fingers in Thorin’s hair as he rocked slowly on his lap. Thorin continued to caress his back and sides and led him to a more leisure rhythm. He kissed Kili’s lips and cheeks whenever he made whimpering sounds, so gentle despite his needs. Kili pulled him into a deep kiss, pouring everything he felt and couldn’t say into it. Seemingly understanding this, Thorin kissed him back as passionately, claiming his mouth with his tongue, his hands soothing the franticness tensing Kili’s body. Kili whined softly when Thorin wrapped a hand around his cock. He wanted to protest, not wanting this to end yet, but Thorin kissed him silent as his hand worked Kili slowly but surely, twisting, squeezing, and caressing just so. Unable to help himself, he pushed up into the tunnel of Thorin’s hand and back to his wide girth stretching him. The twofold pleasure was impossible to resist and he rode Thorin faster, angling himself so that the cock inside him would slide against his prostate, replacing any soreness with pure bliss. In the heat of the moment, Kili was only barely aware of Thorin trying to thrust up whenever he sank back down onto his cock, enveloping him in his soft warmth. The constant gasps Thorin let out showed that he took some pleasure in Kili’s body as well and the thought of satiating his king heat up his blood and tightened the coil in his lower belly. With a tiny gasp, Kili came, spurting onto their abdomens. He rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder, breathing heavily against his neck, as Thorin stroked him through it and made sure that he was completely wrung out before he pushed his hips up sharply, spearing Kili’s sensitive hole twice before coming as well. He pulled Kili’s hips down as he pumped him full of seed. The sensation of Thorin’s cock twitching inside him and the increasing slickness on his inner muscles made Kili moan softly and he forced his tired body to milk Thorin, taking whatever he might offer. For his effort, Thorin groaned his name and gripped his hips tightly as he made small thrusts into Kili’s willing body.

When he had no more seed to give and Kili couldn’t remove himself from him, Thorin carefully leaned back to lay on the bed, bringing Kili with him. They both made small grunts when Kili shifted to the side as to not rest his weight fully on Thorin, causing his soft cock to slip out of him. Together they panted for breath as their bodies cooled while candlelight danced on their skins. Around them, the world was silent. Kili snuggled close to Thorin. They should clean themselves but he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave Thorin. It’s childish, but after what they had gone through, he didn’t want any more separation from Thorin. He closed his eyes, taking in the kisses Thorin gave to his head. He tried to remain awake to spend more time with Thorin, talking to him, watching him, making sure that he was there and all right, but exhaustion from the barrel ride and the reunion defeated him. Kili slept in Thorin’s arms, holding him tightly, refusing to let go.

They must’ve slept for many hours, but it seemed to have only been a few minutes. There were sounds of life going on in the town drifting into the house, but Kili wasn’t ready to join the people. When he was roused by Thorin’s movement, his body was still heavy, his muscles aching, and his eyelids refused to open fully. Yet, before Thorin managed to leave the bed-still fully naked-Kili grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Stay in bed with me,” he begged drowsily.

Thorin tucked Kili’s messy hair behind his ear, smiling fondly at him. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Stubbornly, Kili shook his head and turned his head to kiss Thorin’s wrist. Through half-lidded eyes, he saw Thorin’s lips parted slightly. “Come back to bed.”

Thorin complied, returning to his spot beside Kili. Kili immediately wound his arms and legs around him, preventing him from leaving. Thorin chuckled in amusement but said nothing. He pulled Kili close and kissed his forehead, drawing a content hum from him. Warm and safe, they drifted back to sleep, the world and the quest forgotten a little bit more. When a few hours later Kili woke, it was to Thorin’s lips around his cock. He ran his fingers through tangled hair, thrusting upward lazily, enjoying this new pleasure for never before had Thorin taken him in his mouth. Thorin was obviously not used to it, saliva running down Kili’s length as his tongue slithered erratically on the sensitive hardness, but he was clearly trying, sucking the tip and humming in apology when he took too much and nearly choked. Sighing and whispering encouragements, Kili let Thorin’s slightly sloppy technique slowly brought him to the peak of pleasure until he fell over the edge. He came with a shudder and Thorin followed a few seconds later as he swallowed Kili’s bitter seed, spilling over his own hand and the sheet. They laughed and kissed breathlessly and touching each other softly before Thorin decided that they should eat something. He laughed when he only managed to entice Kili out of bed with the promise of stealing oil from one of their company.

As much as Kili wished they could stay in bed all day during their stay in Laketown, they did have to prepare for the last part of their journey to the Lonely Mountain. Not only food and drink, they also had to get new weapons as most of their weapons were lost in Mirkwood. While it was quite easy to collect food supply, weapons were another matter entirely. The Master of Laketown might have his own armed guards but their weapons weren’t designed for dwarves. Dwalin, Kili, and Fili spent many hours at the smithy, adjusting the weapons for their built and improving the sturdiness as Dwalin deemed them not powerful enough to defeat an orc, let alone a dragon. There was also the matter of building support from the people. The old song about the returning king had made people support them in hope for wealth and welfare, but the dwarfs shouldn’t appear weak as to not make people doubt them and withhold help. So, they put on their best clothes and hid their bruises, showcasing only strength and confidence. After a while, they even believed the boasts and promises they made to the clamoring people.

Excitement grew within the company. Every night, they held feasts and sang to victory. Some days they sparred, preparing themselves for the fight to come. A man in Laketown-the Bard-loudly questioned their chance of defeating Smaug, but they had little doubt of it. The prophecy was clear and the weapons they had collected were strong. There was also Bilbo who had always managed to find a solution for them even in the direst situation. They would defeat the dragon and reclaimed not only crown and throne, but also their people’s true home.

That’s what Thorin said to Kili whenever they were in their room after finishing their tasks for the day. He smiled a lot more these days and he was more relaxed, more content. Even when the company made blunders, he merely shook his head and ordered them to set things right. It’s a peculiar change, but a change no one minded. Kili in particular had always loved to see this side of Thorin and relished every moment he saw it. Now, when time permitted, he coaxed Thorin to their room to hear his thoughts, plans, dreams, and recollections. Lying beside him, he watched Thorin’s smile as he spoke of the objective they would soon attain, the smooth arrangement for the journey home, his ideas of what he would change and restore once he was crowned king, and his memory of happy days spent behind the stone walls of his home. But not all stories were happy. There were private stories of fears and doubts, vulnerabilities no king must show, that he whispered on dark nights. However, before Kili could worry, he would say that those were mere memories as their solution was right before their eyes and Kili worried no more. With Laketown bursting with life right outside their room, Thorin took Kili gently, breathing against each other’s lips and holding each other tightly. When night had descended and their company was sound asleep, he grinned when he made Kili bit his lip and clutched the headboard of their bed tightly, torturing him with his knowledge of Kili’s body. When they were too tired for sex and too content for words, they were tangled under the sheets, kissing and touching gently with no other purpose than enjoying each other’s company. Fili jokingly complained of loneliness (although Kili knew that he wasn’t short on people eager to accompany him) and the rest of the company rolled their eyes whenever they saw Kili and Thorin together, but Kili ignored them. After Mirkwood, he had come to appreciate little moments of peace. Kili didn’t want them to end.

But they had a dragon to banish and a home to reclaim. All too soon, they had to leave Laketown and continued their quest. Some men took them to the land long left behind by boats. The spirit was high, the confidence they had gained from their stay in Laketown was at its peak, the weapons they brought were sharp, they thought they might stand a chance reclaiming their home from the dragon, whether it’s dead or alive. However, once the mountain loomed close and the darkness thickened, the people returned to Laketown, terrified of entering the dragon’s territory, leaving the dwarfs with their provisions and ponies to realize what they were prophesized to do. Kili couldn’t blame them as he surveyed the barren land. The power of death was strong here, where there wasn’t a single living thing in sight. It’s difficult to imagine that not one century prior, there was a thriving kingdom here that people from all corners of Middle Earth visited to trade or to live in. Now, there wasn’t a single plant growing except for stubborn grass, as if the dragon’s fire had burnt fertility off the land. The miles of green fields often told and sung about had disappeared without a trace. With no source of food or water, there wasn’t any animal living there. Occasionally, birds flew past, but always to the direction away from the Lonely Mountain. It’s hard to not think of this Desolation of the Dragon was a place not meant for the living.

Memory and fear silenced the company. Kili could see sorrow in the eyes of those who had lived here. What used to be a home was now a grave for their past. Kili didn’t fully understand as he had spent all his life in their new home in Ered Luin, but he had heard stories and songs of longing for a home robbed, a haven destroyed. The older dwarfs stopped every now and then, looking at the tall mountain before them, their faces unreadable. When night descended, the company quietly set up their tents. A somber atmosphere enveloped them as songs and jokes weren’t fitting for this place. The small fire they made to cook offered the only warmth out in the open and they all huddled together near it, staring at the light with blank expressions. Except for Thorin, that was, who ate his share in silence and then wandered off to return much later when all but Kili and a dwarf on guard duty had fallen asleep, to bury his face in Kili’s hair and hold him tightly.

When they arrived at Ravenhill, Thorin was more distant. Kili wanted nothing more than to accompany Thorin, but he thought he would help more by scouting the area. It was then that Balin showed him the ruins of Dale, the once great city under the shadow of the mountain, the true origin of the people of Laketown. Kili shivered, imagining a bright summer day that suddenly turned into chaos as people’s homes were turned into a sea of fire. And the sea of fire might return, if the smoke coming out of the mountain was any indication. Their hope that Smaug was dead was dashed. The dragon was still alive, still guarding his stolen wealth, still occupying the dwarfs’ true home. Kili looked at his swords, bow, and arrows and the ruins of Dale and felt inadequately prepared. Gandalf’s presence had assured them that success was possible, but the wizard was gone now. Bilbo, while smart, was still only a harmless hobbit. What kind of trickery could he perform to help the dwarfs reclaim their home? Kili returned to their camp in gloomy silence.

Thorin offered to take the first watch that night, a first time since the guard duty was usually given to the rest of the company. However, no one pointed this out, understanding his reasons completely. This was the closest he had been to his home in nearly a century. He slipped away from the company and this was when Kili usually went to bed with the others and waited for his return, but tonight he followed Thorin. Fili pulled his hand but he ignored it. He left the safety of the camp to join Thorin at the top of the hill where they had the best view of the Lonely Mountain. Kili sat down beside him, looking at their destination right in front of them and thought of the danger which lied within it and the seeming impossibility of this quest.

“This used to be a beautiful place,” Thorin said quietly, “From the watch post you could see people milling about near the front gate and the busy city of Dale. There were kites in the sky during the day and tiny firefly-like lights in the city at night. I came here often, pretending to be inspecting our border when in fact I wanted to enjoy the view.” Thorin smirked sardonically. “I was on my way here when Smaug came.”

“Oh.” Not knowing what to say, Kili began to reach for Thorin’s hand, but he then hesitated, unsure whether the gesture would be welcome. Eventually, he dropped his hand and fisted it as he looked at Thorin sadly.

Thorin seemed to be unaware of this. He didn’t remove his eyes off the mountain. There was anger and grief in his gaze as Kili had never before seen. “Inside the mountain were chambers bigger than anything anyone had ever seen. There were endless halls you could spend your entire life trying to memorize and failing. And there were mines which reached deeper and longer than anyone had ever known and contained more riches than the world had ever seen. Everything glittered in green and gold. Green and gold,” he repeated quietly.

Kili watched Thorin clutch his gold necklace tightly. “It must’ve been beautiful.”

Thorin looked at him as if he just realized Kili’s presence. He returned his gaze to the mountain immediately, however, as if fearing it would disappear if he looked away for even a second. “It was. It _will_ be again.”

Kili bit his lip, the thought of the smoke he had seen exiting the mountain resurfaced. “Dale was almost completely destroyed,” Kili said quietly. “And we only…”

“We will succeed!” Thorin said sharply, silencing Kili. Kili couldn’t remember the last time Thorin had raised his voice at him. He had been so gentle and kind lately that Kili nearly forgot the intensity of his wrath. “We have to! We’ve come so far and we will take back our kingdom!” He barked. Then, realizing how he had startled Kili, Thorin turned to him with an apologetic smile. He squeezed Kili’s hand lightly. “We’ll make it,” he said more quietly and gently.

Kili wanted to believe him, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. Still, he let Thorin hold his hand and kiss him. He allowed Thorin to take some comfort in his body but didn’t admit that he couldn’t find any in Thorin’s in return. Kili returned to the camp as restless as when he had left it. He slept facing the doorway and dreamt of a dragon bursting to the stone door and setting flame to them all.

Kili knew to keep his worry to himself, however. He knew the morale in the company had declined since Balin reported that Smaug was still alive. He couldn’t offer cheer as he had done previously in the journey, but he could offer confidence. He put on a mask of dutifulness, showing only determination in hope of inspiring others to not give up. He could tell that Fili did the same. In front of others, he showed calmness and readiness to enact the final part of their quest, but in private, when there wasn’t any other to see but Kili, his brows furrowed and his lips straightened into a worried line. They sought the hidden entry half hoping for success and half hoping for failure. They feared not only for their lives but for the future of their people. The company consisted of their king, their princes, and important members of the Durin family. What would happen if they all perished? Who would lead and govern their people? No doubt chaos would erupt as dwarf lords fought over leaderless Ered Luin and the winner would only achieve victory by spilling the blood of too many. Taking back their homeland was important, but the risk was also great and Kili feared they hadn’t properly prepared themselves for it.

Despite the worry, however, Kili couldn’t help but rejoice when he, Fili, and Bilbo found the secret door after days of searching. Or at least, where the door was supposed to be, as they couldn’t open it or tell it apart from rocks. When they brought the news back to the company, there was much celebration, albeit quietly as they were too close to the dragon. They sat around the fire that night, talking about history and future. Thorin’s eyes when he smiled were bright-too bright, in fact, and Kili had a strange feeling that something he didn’t understand was happening. But, he followed when Thorin led him to his tent. In the darkness, Thror’s key hung between them, brushing against Kili’s heaving chest just above his heart, a reminder and a warning. However, Thorin was grinning and laughing quietly and Kili tried not to think too much of it. He held Thorin tightly, thinking of what he had said before: They would make it.

Finding the door (or the general location of it, as it were) was only the first step. The wall they had found showed no hole for the key Thorin held. They tried every trick they could think of and used every weapon they had at their disposal, yet the wall of stone remained immovable. This bit of magic was at once reassuring and worrying, as they were very certain now that this wasn’t normal stone, but they grew increasingly worried of what lied within. The company whispered of speculations and dark memories, but only when they were far from Thorin for he was now a storm of unpredictable mood, restless in his impatience. They tiptoed around him, fearing his notorious temper, pretending to be as certain as they had been on the first day they left Ered Luin. It was to some relief when Bilbo eventually found the secret, revealed to him by the moonlight. Thorin rushed to his side at his call and with wide eyes unlock the door. The door swung open after a bit of pushing, revealing the darkness inside and releasing the smell of dust. Everything seemed to be a bad omen, but when he stepped inside, Thorin was grinning.

Thorin paced back and forth at the doorway as Bilbo and Balin went inside the passage to investigate. He kept muttering but no one was brave enough to come near him to hear his words clearly, not even his sister-sons and his good friend, Dwalin. They glanced at each other but said nothing, expression their worry only in frowns. When Bilbo and Balin returned with a golden cup, there was much rejoicing. The promise of wealth had given courage to the company. Each of them took turn inspecting the cup, gold reflected in their eyes. Thorin held it the longest, turning it over and over in his hands while telling everyone that he remembered that it’s a gift for his grandfather from a dwarf lord. Kili and Fili listened from a few steps away as the others, excepting Bilbo, listened with rapt attention. Thorin often told the stories of riches in Erebor, but something about this moment felt different. Kili frowned as he studied Thorin, his too-wide grin and wild eyes. Perhaps the cup was cursed, for Thorin wasn’t quite himself as he held it.

However, before Kili could dwell in that thought, they heard the frightening sound of the dragon awaking. Kili protested and grasped at Thorin’s arms as he was pushed into the safety of the dark passage with Bilbo, Balin, and Fili. Thorin held up his hand, signaling him to stay while he and the rest of the company lifted Bofur and Bombur from the ground. Those few minutes were the most terrifying moments of Kili’s life. He stood by the door, heart nearly bursting out of his chest, as he helplessly watched Thorin being exposed to danger to safe their friends. He shouted Thorin’s name as wind howled as the dragon flew near. Sheltered as he was, Kili could feel the wind threatening to blow him away. He held onto the door, shouting Thorin’s name. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as the company seemed to slow while the dragon hastened. Fear gathered in the pit of his stomach and he dug his fingers on stone.

“Thorin!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, hoping that his voice as heard amidst the chaos.

The air grew hot and Kili knew what was coming. Fili tried to pull him away from the door but he resisted. Thorin looked at the dragon, the thief that stole his life, and for a moment Kili feared he would stay there and try his luck in defeating the great drake. But, he turned away at the last moment and ran toward the passage. Kili released the door he had been grasping and pulled Thorin inside. They tumbled inside, chased by hot air, and ducked. Just as Dwalin and Dori closed the door behind them, leaving only a slight gap for air, Smaug’s fire reached the door. Stone heated up around them. Fire entered through the small keyhole, briefly showing them the old interior of the tunnel. There was a short pause then everything happened all over again. Cold dead air grew hot and fire blazed over and over again just above them. Kili lied face down on the floor, hand on Thorin back to keep him to the ground. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing this hell would end.

After a torturously long time, the attack ceased. Smaug left but they hadn’t fully escaped danger yet. They could hear him outside, probably hunting what he thought was the remainders of the company. No one dared to speak for hours. Every miniscule movement ceased abruptly in fear of making a sound. The stone around them was warmed by Smaug’s breath but their bodies were cold in fear. The dragon’s return to the mountain near dawn frightened them further.

When Bilbo crept away to investigate, Thorin sat far from the company, watching the darkness which had swallowed Bilbo, the golden cup in his hand. He was still, far too still, his silhouette as stony as the statues decorating the gate of Erebor and his eyes as bright and feverish as Smaug’s own breath. Only once Bilbo returned did he move, eager to know the weakness of the dragon, but the eagerness was eclipsed by the hunger in his eyes and his voice when he and Balin spoke of the vault of their ancestors, the gold, the jewels, the mithril, the immeasurable wealth, but, most of all, the most precious heirloom of the Durin’s Folks.

“The Arkentstone! The Arkenstone!” Thorin muttered over and over again and the dwarfs listened in rapt attention as he described its beauty, but Kili felt only fear chilling his spine. When he looked at Fili he saw that he was disturbed as well.

That’s when Smaug attacked them again. Only Bilbo’s perceptive feeling saved them, but they were then trapped in the dark passage as they couldn’t find the keyhole anymore. Thus, for days they sat in darkness, breathing in death and time, frightened of making any noise, of making fire, of moving, convinced that the silence surrounding them was a trick of the sly dragon. Kili was reminded to their time lost in the darkness of Mirkwood, except that this darkness was more suffocating. Dwarfs were used to working in the depth of the earth, but with fear weighing them down and the thick layer of memory around them, their breaths slowly grew short. They spoke less and less. Yet, when all had fallen asleep, Thorin whispered in the darkness, his voice barely audible, except to those who paid close attention the way Kili was.

“The Arkenstone,” he whispered darkly as he studied the gold in his hand.

When they finally left the dark passage, prompted by Bilbo’s apparent cry for help when he went to investigate, Kili stood stock still as he took in the sight before him. He had thought that Ered Luin had one of the greatest richest in Middle Earth. Of course he knew that it supposedly paled in comparison with Erebor, but he never thought of how much exactly. Now, he stood in front of a sea of gold. The light from their torches were reflected by gems among the coins and jewelries. When he looked at the pillars as the cross the golden sea, he saw that they were nearly half buried. They slipped and fell but no complaint was heard. Every now and then there were sighs of awe, but no one could capture the moment in words. Once they ascertained that Bilbo was all right, they explored the newly reclaimed hall. Even Kili and Fili who weren’t drawn to the glittering hoard couldn’t help but felt elated. They found harps and played them, singing merry songs of old victories. They seemed fitting now, although there was no battle, no heroic feat accomplished. They had achieved what they came here for and driven Smaug away.

Kili’s fingers faltered on the strings of the harp when Thorin appeared with magnificent gold coat, silver axe, and bejeweled belt. He had seen Thorin wearing formal royal robes with beautiful jewelries and wonderfully crafted weapons, but never had he seen Thorin look quite so majestic. Now, wearing and carrying beautiful things which should’ve remained his, he was truly the King under the Mountain whose wealth and strength were unparalleled across Middle Earth. Kili’s heart thudded in his chest and he saw Thorin now with new admiration and adoration when he thought that it was impossible to see Thorin more highly than he already did. When they were led away from the gold-filled hall to a look-out post, Kili walked right behind Thorin and looked back to the hall only once. The rest of their company, though in high spirit, were weighed down by the gold they claimed and carried in their pockets, but Kili and Fili only brought the harps and a pair of swords for protection and thus could walk ahead of the others. The old post was cold and barren of comfort but they spent the night admiring the souvenirs they had taken from the hall. Kili only glanced at them and didn’t hesitate to follow when Thorin motioned him to go with him behind a wall. With the hushed conversations and quiet laughter of their company, seemingly loud in the silence, in the background, Thorin pinned him to the wall and kissed him deeply.

“You didn’t take anything,” Thorin whispered, his lips brushing against Kili’s with every letter.

Kili kissed him again and ran his hands over his gold armor, contending himself with the thought of the protection it provided Thorin, before replying. “I took a harp and a sword.”

“But nothing else,” Thorin pointed out.

Kili touched Thorin’s face. He might be covered in cold precious metals and stones but his eyes and lips were as warm and his hands were as gentle as before. The strangeness which had taken over him briefly was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it had never been there at all and Kili had only misread excitement. Kili smiled when Thorin cocked an eyebrow and remembered what Thorin had just said. “I have everything I need.”

And he meant it with all his heart, he discovered, though Thorin didn’t seem to believe him. He didn’t bother explaining, knowing that just as he didn’t understand Thorin’s lack of interest in the nature, Thorin didn’t understand his lack of fascination in gold. This was a night for celebration, not for discussion which could very well lead to argumentation. They returned to the company after sharing another lengthy kiss and watched the mountain, leaning on each other.

The next day came good news and bad news brought unexpectedly by a raven, Roac.  The news Smaug’s death was much rejoiced for it sealed the reclamation of the dwarf’s true home. However, the celebration was short. The repossession might not last as enemy was coming. A joined force of elves and men were on their way. The dwarfs were angry at the thought of losing again the home they had just returned, but no one more so than Thorin. He sent Roac to call Dain for help and Kili knew immediately how dire the situation was, as Thorin wouldn’t ask for assistance unless completely necessary. They returned to Erebor with haste and quickly barricaded themselves in it. Kili’s heart pounded in his chest as he worked. He had thought that his duty started with his departure from Ered Luin and ended with retaking Erebor from Smaug, but he was wrong. Now, his true duty start: Protecting Durin’s property and legacy. He worked with little rest, finding weaknesses in the old fortress and reinforcing them. When he was ordered to find their ponies, he and Fili went without argument, leaving the safety of company and Erebor. There was a vast army approaching, but they didn’t hesitate, until they spied the approaching army.

They didn’t dare to come too close in fear of being detected by elves’ sharp eyes and ears, but even from the distance they could see the organized and well-trained elf soldiers and their gleaming weapons and armors. They had no doubt that dwarven weapons were better, but the sight still affected them. More than the weaponries, however, it’s the atmosphere around the camp that drew their attention the most. Soft melodies reached Fili and Kili’s ears, along with laughter. Their curiosity grew as they studied the elven culture, distinctly different from what they had seen in Rivendell. Furthermore, the more they observed, the more they saw the kindness of the elves, feeding and treating the people of Laketown who had not only survived Smaug but their poverty as well. Could it be that they were wrong with their impression of the elves? Or perhaps the elves had changed their ways? A longing to join the elves and men grew in their minds and it was with heavy hearts that they returned to Erebor. They didn’t share their observation beyond that enemy was coming, knowing that the others wouldn’t take it well that they had grown to sympathize with the enemy. Foolishly, however, Kili kept a small hope that the situation would end without violence. Dying in a battle was an honor, especially to protect a kingdom recently retaken, but if death could be avoided for the wellbeing and prosperity of the people, why shouldn’t they take the chance?

This hope, however, was quickly crushed as Thorin declared war. Kili didn’t dare to argue, noting Thorin’s grim mood-a grim mood which bode for something far darker. Kili watched from afar as the company divided the treasure among themselves and only entered the hall when ordered to look for the Arkenstone. He had heard many times of it and had always admired the myth, but now he grew to fear it. The Arkenstone was the only thing Thorin spoke of beside war and when others had retired with their selected riches, Thorin could be heard pacing and searching among the gold, muttering about the stone. He was pale, having forgone eating in favor of searching for his family heirloom, and his eyes were wild and too bright. Roac was the only one who dared to warn him of the consequences of his decision, but Thorin was immovable. There would be a war and for the first time Kili wondered if he was truly on the right side.

One night, Thorin summoned him to the glittering hall. Although most of the company had taken their share, the treasure seemed mostly intact. Kili only glanced at it, however, no interested in wealth. Thorin, on the other hand, seemed barely able to take his eyes of his possession. He covered himself in jewelries and carried the finest weapons, looking like the king he was, except that there’s something missing. Something essential which made everyone, Kili included, admired him.

“I notice you still haven’t taken your share of the hoard,” Thorin began, his deep voice sending shivers down Kili’s spine. “I didn’t think you meant it when you said you had everything you wanted.”

“I did mean it,” Kili said quietly.

Thorin gave him an amused look but Kili wasn’t happy receiving it. There was coldness and distance in that gaze that he didn’t like. A fear started to grow within him as Thorin gestured around them.

“Well, no matter. Some of this will be yours someday, whether you claim it or not,” Thorin said.

“But it’s yours now,” Kili concluded.

Thorin smirked. “It has returned to me.” He picked up a crown of gold and gemstones from among the treasure and studied it for a while before dropping it as if it’s worth nothing. “Everything in this room and under this mountain, Erebor, the throne, the crown, the Arkenstone.” He frowned deeply as he mentioned the still missing heirloom. There was hunger in his eyes, one that was dark and bottomless, swallowing sensibility and reasons. When he looked up, Kili inadvertently stepped back. The smile he then gave Kili was not at all kind and affectionate, but implied danger which froze Kili when Thorin approached him. His hand was cold when he cupped Kili’s cheek. “And the most precious jewel among my treasure: You.”

“No!” Kili protested loudly, his voice ricocheting off walls, as he stepped away from Thorin. His heart beat wildly in his chest as Thorin’s eyes widened in surprise in front of him. “I belong to no one and certainly not you! You are not yourself! You are not the king I followed, the leader I obeyed, the dwarf I loved!”

They both stilled at the unwitting confession. Kili knew as soon as the word left his mouth that he meant it. He hadn’t meant to, thinking that physical relationship was sufficient and more fitting for the journey they had taken. However, now as he stood before Thorin, he realized that what he felt went beyond lust, companionship, or kinship. Thorin had become more than unapproachable king and leader, distant uncle, and decent friend. Kili now knew his strengths and weaknesses, his dreams and his fears, his best and his worst, and he loved them. He loved Thorin. He wasn’t a perfect dwarf, but that didn’t weaken Kili’s feelings, didn’t stop Kili from wanting to make and see him happy, didn’t cease Kili’s wish to share his sorrow and burden, didn’t make Kili want his time and companionship any less. What Kili had rejected before, he now longed for. He wanted to be more than a part of the company and a sister-son. He wanted to be Thorin’s lover.

But the dwarf in front of him wasn’t Thorin, not entirely. Kili knew what this is. He had heard of this told so many times as a cautionary tale. It’s the sickness in their blood, the curse running down their veins, the dragon sickness. Thror had succumbed to it, but Thorin had always resisted it, focusing instead on his responsibilities. Kili had thought Thorin was immune to it. But the way he now looked at the repossessed gold, the way he’d rather risk war than part from the treasure, the way he wanted to possess, the way thoughts of the Arkenstone haunted his waking hours were unmistakable. The dragon sickness had infected Thorin, turning him into a greedy selfish king.

A sliver of recognition of Kili’s words crossed Thorin’s eyes. There was astonishment there, as well as deep unending affection, but it quickly disappeared behind layers upon layers of greed. He approached Kili menacingly. “I am not your king?” he growled. “So you’re going to betray me? Leave our gold to those greedy elves and men?” he spat out.

Kili wanted to say yes. He should say yes. It was clear to him now that he was on the wrong side. The treasure belonged to the dwarfs, indeed, and thus should be protected. However, the decision to not give in to the Lake-men’s demand was made not to protect what was rightfully theirs, but to hoard out of greed. They should have their share and Thorin shouldn’t be allowed to hoard the gold all to himself. Yet, despite knowing this, Kili couldn’t bring himself to leave. The dragon sickness might have overtaken the mind of the dwarf in front of him, but this was still Thorin and Kili wanted to believe that somewhere inside him the dwarf he loved and admired still existed. His loyalty to both king and dwarf wouldn’t allow him to switch side. He didn’t want to leave Thorin, not when there was still a chance, no matter how slim, of recovery, of finding the respectable dwarf back, of having the king prophesized in the old song back.

“No,” Kili said sadly. “I’ve pledged to you my loyalty. I will stay, but I will _not_ be your possession.”

Having said this, Kili turned away to leave. He had just exited the dark hall when he heard Thorin’s angry roar behind him, followed by sounds of coins and jewelries hitting each other as Thorin attacked the treasure in rage. Kili paused for a moment before leaving. He only briefly noted Bombur sleeping during his watch and immediately went to Fili, one of the few he knew who wasn’t affected by the treasure, one of his constant sources of comfort. He found him immediately, wide awake just around the corner, looking at him worriedly, no doubt having heard the sound of Thorin’s anger. Kili leaned on the wall nearby and closed his eyes as he collected his thoughts. He wished this was but a nightmare, but he could hear Thorin’s angry shouts and the sounds of his sword against beautiful gold items, removing whatever doubt he had of the situation. This wasn’t a dream. This was reality.

“It’s the dragon sickness,” Kili choked out. “It’s got him.”

Fili quickly looked toward the dark hall, eyes wide with fear. “Are you sure?”

Kili nodded with difficulty. “He won’t listen to reasons. He only thinks of how to keep the gold to himself and to add to his possession.” The most precious jewel of his possession, Thorin had called him. Kili thought of being in the dark hall, sealed away from the world along with gold and gems, to be admired whenever Thorin fancied it; to lose the freedom of mind, body and heart; to be an object instead of a person.

Fili pursed his lips. “I’ve had my suspicions but I didn’t think they’d be true,” he said quietly. He looked at Kili worriedly, as if knowing what had transpired in the hall. “Are you all right?”

Again, Kili nodded. “I left before he could do anything,” he said grimly. He had never ran from Thorin, trusting that even in his anger he wouldn’t harm Kili, but tonight was different. Tonight, Kili wasn’t sure Thorin would care much for his wellbeing. He only had two choices if he wanted safety: Escape or submit to being Thorin’s trophy. Kili bit his lip and bowed his head, his heart aching at the thought of his lost loved one.

As if understanding this, Fili squeezed his shoulder. “I think it is best for you to stay away from him for now.”

They didn’t discuss how long ‘for now’ would be. Thror was released from the sickness when he was thrown out of his kingdom with little more than what he had on his back. What would cure Thorin now? _Defeat_ , Kili’s mind whispered sorrowfully, _death in the battlefield_. He tried to ignore these thoughts, but it became more and more likely as it was revealed that Bilbo had betrayed them and gave the Arkenstone to Bard the Bowman of Laketown. Kili watched fearfully as Bilbo was all but thrown down the wall, his services for the company and his friendship with them forgotten. Now he was one of the enemy, undistinguishable from those Thorin perceived as trying to rob him off his property. Kili swallowed thickly when he caught Thorin’s angry gaze as the king turned away to return inside his stone palace. For one moment he thought he would be thrown out of the rampart like Bilbo for his rejection the previous night, but Thorin merely huffed and stomped to his beloved hall. Kili threw one last look to Bilbo to make sure that he was well before following the rest of the company, Fili and Bombur by his sides.

A war was coming. There’s no denying or avoiding that. Dain’s army would arrive tomorrow and unless the elves and men withdrew-which was very unlikely-Dain would attack them. Kili dutifully prepared his armor and weapons to be worn in the morning. No one slept that night, busy sharpening their axes and swords. Thorin was nowhere to be seen, though his angry voice could be heard whispering in the air all across Erebor. This and the steely determination in the company’s eyes kept Kili and Fili quiet. They retreated to a balcony, watching the camp below and the eastern sky. As children, heroic tales were their favorites. Growing up, they longed to practice those stories, defeating evils and claiming fortunes. But now, at the eve of war, they found themselves on the side that should be defeated, not because they’re fighting for what wasn’t rightfully theirs, but because they let themselves be led by a leader whose mind was clearly compromised. The first rays of sun had just lighted the sky when Kili and Fili came back inside to put on their armors. Around them, the Lonely Mountain was quiet, watching grimly as the dwarfs it housed prepared for a battle they should not win.

Instead of marching out to join Dain’s army which had arrived after days of travel, Thorin led the company to a hideout on the east where they could see what happened below. There was a brief argument, but it was clear that it wouldn’t end with one side withdrawing. Kili took aim with a bow and arrow when Dain made the first move, but Thorin lifted his hand to signal him to stop. Kili wasn’t the only one surprised. The rest of the dwarfs looked at Thorin with shock in their eyes. Thorin had never avoided battles, always at the lead when they fought enemies, always the first to defend his kin, until now.

“Shouldn’t we help them?” Fili asked.

Thorin kept his eyes on the armies below him where five hundred dwarfs of Ironhill was clearly outnumbered by the combined forces of Mirkwood elves and Lake-men. Yet, he showed no sign of worrying or caring at all. “Dain can handle this,” he said coldly.

The company looked at each other. Confusion and honor broke through gold lust. Now they saw Thorin with some doubt, suspecting their king’s sense and intentions for the first time. This doubt was reinforced when black clouds came and with them came Gandalf, halting the battle. His clear loud voice reached the dwarfs up in the mountain as he warned the fighting parties that common enemy was on its way, dark creatures eager to take what Smaug had abandoned and avenge the Goblin King they had slaughtered. Though the change of situation was abrupt, it didn’t take long for Dain, the Elvenking, and the Bard to reach a decision and form an alliance. The company looked at their king expectantly. Surely now they would act. After all goblins, wargs, and orcs had threatened their lives over and over again during the quest. Surely they could put aside differences and past grudges with the elves and men to fight the goblins.

However, Thorin merely led his company to a higher balcony where they had better view of the proceeding of war. The company watched in horror as wave after wave of goblins and wargs attacked elves, men, and dwarves. From their vantage they could see the seemingly unending darkness that blanketed earth and sky. They grew restless. They were warriors, some more trained than others, and none wanted to put personal safety over the survival of their kin and allies. But their esteemed leader was quiet and made no move to help. He observed the battle with cold detachment, not caring how many fell as long as he could keep his wealth. He didn’t notice the company looking at him in realization, finally seeing what was happening to him, finally seeing the gold lust infecting him. However, loyalty still kept their lips sealed. Dragon sickness or not, Thorin was still their king, directly descended from Durin himself. This was still the dwarf who once won a battle for them and built them a new home. They didn’t dare to stand against him, regardless of how wrong he was. But, Kili had had enough. The dwarfs, elves, and men were getting increasingly overwhelmed by the enemy while he was only to watch. This wasn’t what he had been taught to do. This wasn’t what he came here for.  This wasn’t what Durin’s Folks were supposed to be. Kili turned away from the horrific view below and stormed toward the stairs, ignoring the startled looks he earned. He had only taken a few steps when his arm was pulled back roughly. Thorin’s furious eyes met his, but for once Kili refused to fold. He held Thorin’s gaze bravely.

“So you’ll betray me, after all?” Thorin growled. If not for his armor, Kili was sure he would have bruises with how tightly Thorin gripped his arm. “You’ll leave me and join them?”

Kili swallowed the pain from the reminder of how deeply affected by greed Thorin was. He didn’t recognize kin and allies. He didn’t even recognize honor anymore. Greed had corrupted his mind, allowing him to see others only as threats. Kili wanted to erase this sickness from his mind, but their time was running thin. He would face it later, when peace had returned. If there was a ‘later’ for him at all. “I will do as I should: Protecting Erebor, instead of hiding from enemy while others fight for us,” Kili gritted out, hiding the pain his disobedience caused. He managed to release himself and resumed walking to the stairs.

This defiance was the final trigger of Thorin’s wrath . “How dare you disobey your king!” he roared, reaching for his axe.

Fili moved between them just as Kili took a few steps back to avoid the attack. He didn’t draw his sword but his hand was on its hilt, ready to defend himself and his brother. Fili seemed calm but his gaze held disappointment, having witnessed himself how the sickness had turned Thorin against his own kin. His silence had weight and its impact was clear on Thorin who took a step back as if Fili had physically pushed him. He looked at his usually obedient nephew in disbelieve, his hands fell limply to his sides as he lost the support of his closest relatives. The shock, however, didn’t last and quickly turned to rage again.

“So you’re a traitor, too?” he growled, tightening his grip on his axe.

Fili glanced at the weapon but didn’t react. “If a king puts his kingdom and his people in harm’s way, it is duty to defy him.” He lifted his gaze, meeting Thorin’s eyes with disapproval. “We betray no one. Our loyalty lies in the throne of Erebor and there it will stay, and now the throne is calling us to perform our duty.”

Fili’s words stirred the company. They looked at each other, their blind faith in Thorin evaporating along with the remnants of their dragon sickness. With both princes ignoring the king’s order and threatening to leave him in favor of duty toward kingdom rather than king, Thorin’s authority was questioned. They saw now that the authority wasn’t absolute, that thoughtless loyalty was disservice, that betrayal was the true way to serve their cause. Some of them might have joined the journey for the gold, but they were still honorable dwarfs who wished to fight for what’s right. So, they turned to Fili and Kili now, having lost their faith in the leader lost to gold.

Sensing this, Thorin’s anger rose again. But, this time there was a near imperceptible quiver to his voice. He was scared. He knew his grasp of his loyal company was loosening and he was scared of being alone, of having more enemies, of being defeated by enemy and losing his gold. “I am your king!” he bellowed, his voice rising above the noise of war surrounding them.

Frustration mounted within Kili and he could bear it no more. He strode toward Thorin and stopped only when Fili refused to move from his path. “You are not my king! My king wouldn’t sacrifice his kin while he sat back in safety! My king would fight with them and his allies for his people! My king wouldn’t risk others’ lives to keep his gold!” Kili shouted words he wished he didn’t have to say. His eyes grew damp but he blinked the wetness away. “My king was an honorable dwarf while you deserve none! You may have your mountain, crown, and throne but you are a king in name only!”

A shout erupted from below but none of the company paid attention to it. They watched the exchange before them anxiously. Even Fili looked quite surprised by Kili’s harsh words as never before-not even in his angriest moment-had Kili spoke so callously of Thorin. There had always been great respect for his uncle in his heart, but things had changed now-the respect was without merit. The power of the dragon sickness was so strong over him that he was barely a shadow of the dwarf he once had been. He was still physically Thorin and the pain crossing his eyes at Kili’s words made it difficult to walk away, but Kili did so somehow. He walked down the stairs without looking back. Seconds later footsteps followed him. He knew without looking that it was Fili. He allowed himself a small smile, slightly comforted by the support. He expected no one else aside from Fili, however, and was surprised when he heard more footsteps following behind him and Fili. He looked back and saw the rest company, looking sad for abandoning their king but determined to do the right thing.

Hastily, they took the weapons they had put near the front gate. They prepared themselves quietly but quickly. There was no conversation and support and encouragement were given through looks and pats on arms and backs. Despite the courage, there was still some nervousness. The front gate was barred but once it’s open, once they’re out there they would be fighting for the future of their home and their lives, and the chance of surviving wasn’t high. They all knew this-they had seen the endless army of goblins, wargs, and bats. They were strong, but they could only do so much. Yet, they weren’t deterred. No one looked back, no one considered leaving to hide. If they were to die in this battle, then so be it. It would be honorable deaths to protect their kingdom and their allies.

Kili took a deep breath as Dori and Bombur began to lift the beam which kept the gate closed but suddenly paused, staring at something behind the rest of the company. Hope bubbled inside Kili and before he could stop himself, he turned around. He inhaled sharply when from the darkness Thorin emerged. The crown he had had upon his head was discarded and the bejeweled armor and belt he had worn earlier had been replaced by simpler ones. Along with the jewels, the anger and fear in his eyes were gone, leaving only a calmness, or perhaps even resignation. This change wasn’t lost on them. The company made way for him when he walked past and he looked at each of them with apologetic eyes. He stopped before Kili and Fili, lips curving in a regretful smile.

“You are right,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice but his words were heard clearly. That was how Kili knew Thorin had come back, for the mad king needed to shout to be heard and threaten to be obeyed. This self-assuredness, even as he was asking for forgiveness, was the true mark of king. Thorin had returned. The mountain and the dwarfs once again had a king. “A king doesn’t let others risk their lives for his sake or for his wealth while he hides. The gold has blinded me, but now I see where the greatest value lies.” He gave Kili a smile that he couldn’t help but return and then turned around to address the company. “We have hidden too long but there was time yet. I have no right to ask this of any you. But, will you follow me one last time?”

No one hesitated to give their agreement, recognizing their king in Thorin once again. When the front gate swung open, Thorin was at the front, leading his company, with Kili and Fili right behind him. The first to notice was Dain who came to greet his cousin, but the reunion was brief. Soon they were separated, fighting for their lives. The company who had gone with them just moments earlier was nowhere to be seen, lost in the chaos. Wherever they were, Kili wished them the best. He couldn’t go find them for his duty lay with Thorin, in protecting him from harm. He and Fili stayed close to him, slaying any goblin which dared to come near. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Thorin’s battle skill. They had heard of it and witnessed it many times. If anything, they believed that Thorin was far more skillful than both of them combined. But, as his sister-sons, they were his shields and swords. It was their duty to stand between him and danger. To die protecting him would be their greatest honor.

Kili lost track of how many goblins and orcs his sword had cleaved. The mountain of dead body became higher and higher, his clothes more and more soaked with blood, his limbs heavier and heavier, his breathing more and more labored. Only survival instinct kept him upright. He clenched his jaws through pain and climbed piles of corpses to slay yet more enemy. However, no matter how high he climbed, there was still more of the dark army against their declining army. The elf and dwarf soldiers could barely contain the violence of the goblins and the men even less so. Orcs and wargs crept closer and closer despite Kili and Fili’s efforts to keep them away from Thorin. He hadn’t lost hope (and he wouldn’t!) but he knew that victory was difficult to achieve. Kili let out a shout as he cut down a warg all on his own, scaring off several goblins. If he was to die, he would at least be remembered for fighting for Erebor and the one he loved.

“Eagles!” someone shouted. The voice was for a while drowned out by the noises of battle, but it came again and it was then echoed by others. “The Eagles!” dwarf, elves, and men shouted alike. Looking up to the sky, Kili saw the Eagles broke the dark cloud created by bats, allowing the sun to shine on them. The warmth and the brightness seemed to revive hope, returning strength, opening possibilities. Perhaps there was chance for victory.

Sudden pain lanced through Kili. He gasped as he staggered back. His lungs burnt and when he looked down he saw an arrow embedded in his chest where a part of his armor had been broken and exposed his vulnerable chest. He tried to break it but his hand shook badly, so he gritted his teeth and tried to continue fighting. It hurt. It hurt so much. Every movement increased the pain tenfold. His chest ached and burnt and his breathing came short and his heart pounded unsteadily. Still, he fought to keep the critters away from Thorin. He caught Fili’s panicked gaze for a split second before his attention was taken by an orc advancing toward Thorin, lifting his sword to cut him. Without thinking, Kili stopped the orc before he could reach Thorin. But, the arrow had weakened him and he managed to block the orc’s attack a few times before his shaking hand dropped his sword and the sword broke his armor and spilled blood.

Kili fell to his knees as the world around him spun. He heard his name being called but he couldn’t make himself turn around to look. His sight grew blurry, making it impossible to see the enemy, let alone fight. He tried to take a deep breath but it made the pain so great that he fell to his back, jostling the arrow piercing him. Half-conscious, he saw the dark sky moved above him as he was dragged away from danger. Thorin’s worried face hovered above him as his trembling hands touched his injuries. Kili didn’t like that look on his face but when he tried to speak, he couldn’t make a noise aside from heavy breathing. Somewhere Kili couldn’t see, Fili was shouting his name, begging him to stay awake and stay with them, but strength left his body along with his blood. To comfort Thorin and Fili, Kili tried to smile. An Eagle soared above them as a drop of tear fell from Thorin’s eyes to his face and Kili slipped into darkness.

It was all right. It was painful, but Kili had always expected his end to be so. To die while performing his duties, whether as a prince, a warrior, or a hunter, was truly a great honor he had always wanted. It did hurt quite a lot more than he thought it would and he hated being the cause of that devastated look on Thorin’s face and Fili’s fear, but it’s all right, he supposed. He had done what he had to. He had protected his home, the future of his people, and his king. He regretted not lasting longer, not being able to protect others more, not being able to see the outcome of this battle, but some things never happened as one wished. It hurt, but it’s worth it and at least he knew that Thorin had become the king he was once again, at least the last thing he felt was Thorin’s loving hands soothing his injuries.

Kili didn’t know what he would see when he opened his eyes. Pure darkness? Blinding light? A long hall full of faces he didn’t recognize but saw in his reflection? Would it be warm or cold? Would he see his father again? Kili wasn’t sure what to expect, but he certainly didn’t expect to see the interior of a tent. He also didn’t expect to hear what he distinctly recognized as elf language. He had only managed to blink his eyes open when a female elf (or at least he assumed it’s a female elf) appeared by his side. She made soothing noises when Kili tried to move, causing pain to spread through his nerves again. It was difficult for him to breathe, every inhalation seemed to burn his lungs and tear his insides. He made a plaintive groan in pain when the elf put her hand over his chest and suddenly he felt warm, his pain easing. Kili slipped back into unconsciousness.

The next time he woke up, he could breathe easier. The same elf appeared with water and helped him drink. He did so slowly although his throat was parched, as every movement reawakened pain. Although his mind was clouded still by exhaustion and pain, Kili managed to have a look at his surroundings. There were many beds around him occupied by elves, dwarfs, and men alike. Medics bustled around the large tent, whispering urgently to each other. There was a dizzying scent of medicinal herbs in the air and it was warm inside despite the season. It seemed that, despite all odds, he had been saved. The relief he felt was brief, however, and panic set in when he remembered the company. Kili wanted to ask about the fates of his friends and the outcome of the battle, but he fell asleep the second his head touched his pillow.

When he woke up, Kili felt significantly better, though he could tell that he was still in recovery. Breathing didn’t hurt as much anymore and when he tested his limbs, he found them movable only with some pain. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to sit up. Several elves came to his side when he tried to leave his bed. They told him to lie back down but he fought their helping hands. “I want to see my friends!” he demanded, his voice hoarse from disuse, as he pushed away an elf who tried to push him back into his bed. “Where are they? Let me see Fili and Thorin!”

“Kili!” The familiar voice stopped Kili’s struggle. Behind the elves, Gandalf stood, looking at him with a mixture of relief and exasperation. He sighed loudly, shaking his head. “Well! You Durin Folks surely are a stubborn lot!” he commented with a smile. “Don’t worry. All of your company survived, though not without scrapes and bruises, but I’m sure dwarfs can handle those without complaint! As for Fili, he woke up before you. He looked for you as well. When we showed him your bed, he kept trying to come near you, so we had to move him to another tent!”

Kili sighed in relief. The company, even the less experienced ones, certainly could bear some pain. And if Fili managed to raise such a ruckus that warranted being moved, then he must be well. This left Thorin, whom he had last seen holding him as the battle raged around them, who lost the protection of one of his sister-son. “And Thorin?” he asked fearfully,

Gandalf smiled softly, sadness playing around the edges, and Kili’s breath nearly stopped. “Do you want to see him?”

Of course Kili wanted to. Ignoring the elves’ protests, Kili followed Gandalf out of the tent. He still felt weak, the world spinning around him at random intervals, and intense pain spread his wounds if he moved just so. Gandalf didn’t rush him, stopping when he caught his breath while simultaneously trying to calm himself. Perhaps there really was nothing to worry about. The sky was blue without a hint of ominous dark cloud. The air was clear with little trace of metallic scent of blood and a suffocating smoke. Around them, elves, dwarves, and men exchanged smiles and while they looked tired and rather unwell, they seemed relaxed. These pointed to one possibility only: They had won the battle. Kili knew this victory wasn’t without price, there must have been many who had fallen during the battle. He quietly wished them safe passage to the afterlife and vowed to mourn them properly when he was fully healed. But for now, he followed Gandalf to a heavily guarded tent, needing to see his king.

Thorin was pale and covered by many bloody bandages when Kili saw him. He was awake but barely clinging on to consciousness, hardly reacting to the caring hands of the medics surrounding him. Swallowing back tears of both grief and relief, Kili drew near. At first, Thorin frowned when he saw Kili, as if he didn’t recognize him, but the frown soon dissolved into a smile, bright though weak. He lifted his hand and Kili half stumbled forward to take it. The hand was cold but Thorin’s smile was warm and Kili choked on the emotion clogging his throat.

“Thorin,” he whispered, unable to speak more. He kissed Thorin’s bloody knuckles, hoping that it conveyed the intense relief filling his injured chest. He knew the message was received when Thorin squeezed his hand lightly. The smile he gave was affectionate and familiar and it hurt to think that Kili very nearly would never see it again. “Thorin,” he whispered again as his lips curved into a smile on the back of Thorin’s hand.

For days, what used to be the camp of the Mirkwood elves and Lake-men was busy, mostly with medics who tirelessly monitor and treat the injured. Those who were still able or had recovered helped the medics or buried the dead. Once Dain declared Erebor save, they moved the wounded inside the mountain. And it’s not a moment too soon, for winter had finally came, snow falling ceaselessly to cover red with white. The stone halls were cold but Dain’s soldiers ignited the forges to pump heat throughout the palace. After so many decades of silence and death, the halls of Erebor were filled with light and lives. The voices of the soldiers, at first quiet but growing stronger by day, echoed off the green marbles. Not very long after, songs began to be sung though no one dared to hold a party yet to respect the deceased. Still, the kingdom long abandoned to a dragon was now alive. Though there weren’t as many people as in the past, it offered a glimpse of what Erebor could be once again. It wouldn’t be a cold tomb or vault anymore, but a place for everyone to live and prosper. This was the Erebor written in books and sung in songs, the Erebor many longed for, the Erebor many had fought for, the Erebor that would be restored.

Thorin, Fili, and Kili were given their own room. They’re not the palatial rooms for the royal family, but they were the best that Dain deemed save and livable. Medics had refused to leave them alone in the beginning, but as they recovered, they had more and more privacy. Kili and Fili began to divide their time between their rooms and Thorin’s. There was little to do yet, as everyone was focused on recovery rather than reconstruction, so they spent their time keeping each other company. Thorin who sustained worse injuries than Kili and Fili was still unable to walk far but Kili once helped them look at the camp set in the hall of his fathers from a balcony. He stayed there a while, intently watching and listening to the elves, men, and dwarfs conversing peacefully, before his injuries forced him to return to his bed. Kili didn’t ask what he thought but Thorin slept with a smile on his face and he took it as something good. He shared this news with Fili who smiled broadly in response.

One cold day, Kili came to Thorin’s room to find him sitting by a window, looking at the white field below. Thorin turned to him when he felt his stare, and smiled. When he gestured Kili to come close, he obeyed quietly. As he stood beside Thorin, he felt warmth began to cover him, warmth that had nothing to do with the flame in the fireplace that gently burnt. He hadn’t noticed how much he missed the calmness and safety he felt in Thorin’s presence until he felt it again. It had been gone for ages, it seemed, though it was in fact only for days (darkness and greed had twisted their perceptions of time). Nevertheless, mere days of a king being possessed by dragon sickness were too long. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. They should’ve known and put a stop to it, did the right thing and prevented hostility and battle altogether. It seemed that Thorin was of the same opinion.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said, looking out of the window again. “I shouldn’t have chosen war.”

Kili wished he could refute but Thorin spoke the truth. While, indeed, the battle would have still happened as none of them had expected the goblins to come, Thorin’s decision to choose wealth over honor couldn’t be justified and his order to stay in hiding had no doubt cost lives. There might have been more people in the hall of their fathers had Thorin not been influenced by the sickness. It might have been only a dozen people but blood unnecessary split was still a great failure.

“It was a mistake but it’s over now,” Kili offered with a small smile.

Thorin shook his head sadly. “I will give the people of Laketown their share of the gold to repair their home and if they wish to rebuild Dale, I will help them for no cost at all. It’s the least I can do after what I’ve done to them,” he said regretfully.

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that and forgive you,” Kili said, touching Thorin’s hand lightly, hating the sadness upon his face. “They aren’t bad people. They will understand.”

“No, they aren’t bad at all. I have misjudged them, haven’t I?”

“Thorin,” Kili said, frowning.

“I have misjudged so many,” Thorin said warily. He looked at their hands and then looked up to Kili. “I threw Bilbo off the rampart for trying to stop the war which shouldn’t have ever started. I tried to attack you and Fili for wanting to do what I should’ve ordered you to do: Helping Dain.”

“It was the dragon sickness that made you do that. We understand that completely,” Kili reassured him. He nodded firmly when Thorin looked at him with doubt. “We do. We know you. We know that you wouldn’t have done any of that if not for the sickness.”

A hesitant smile began to form on Thorin’s lips. “Would you forgive me for what I did? For threatening you and causing your injuries?” he asked quietly, as if he thought Kili would answer negatively.

Kili smiled, swallowing a lump in his throat. He squeezed Thorin’s hand gently. In his chest, his heart threatened to burst with affection for the dwarf and the king he finally had back. “I have forgiven you. You weren’t yourself and I know that now that you’ve come back, you will never do the same mistake.”

Thorin nodded. “I swear by this mountain that I will not let that sickness take me twice. I will be the king Erebor deserves.” He paused, assessing something in Kili’s eyes. “And perhaps once again I can be the dwarf you love,” he said tentatively, gauging Kili’s reaction.

The memory of their argument in the vault and the ill-timed confession returned to Kili. He had almost forgotten and thought that Thorin surely did not remembered, but he was wrong. Not only did Thorin remembered, he also wanted Kili’s love. He felt light-headed, drunk in happiness and love. “You already are the dwarf I love.”

Thorin stood up and captured Kili’s lips in a tender kiss, sealing their confession. Kili held him close, leaving his apprehension behind. He hadn’t wanted this-the commitment had daunted him, driving him to seek convenience only. But now he wanted and valued it more than anything else even though he knew it would take a lot of effort to maintain. Thorin could be difficult and so could Kili and the world wasn’t always on the side of lovers, but he would try. He knew Thorin was worth the fight. He knew _they_ were worth the fight. Kili sighed in contentment and rested his forehead on Thorin’s. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the closeness, the warmth, their love. Dwarfs loved only once, and Kili had found his One.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really, should learn to write shorter fics. Visit me on [tumblr](http://demonessryu.tumblr.com/) to say hi, talk about thorinkili, or buy what’s left of my soul with photo/gif sets/arts of thorinkili. Seriously, my soul is cheap.


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